The Reason for Fear
by Angeleia Kenobi
Summary: This is my playthrough of the game - and can I say that I love this game? My current obsession, and something that had to be told. Revised 6/21
1. Disclaimer

So, this is my new obsession. I apologize to all those who have been reading my other stories and have been bothering me to finish them, but this was something I had to get off my chest.

Okay so, this is my disclaimer! I OWN NOTHING! All of this belongs to the BioWare Dragon Age Team and I am so grateful to them for creating such a wonderful game. I came up with this idea from the line that Alistair says at the end, "I was so scared I might lose you." and it got me thinking... what could happen that would make Alistair that scared, when he knew that my character wasn't gonna die?

Anyway, with that said there are a few other things that I should say as well:

this is in 1st person for the most part. There are portions that are told in 3rd person, mostly to continue the storyline. I hope it doesn't get too confusing. For the most part I kept those in their own chapters.

My Cousland is female and obviously will be going for Alistair, I'm hopeless that way. She is a rogue, has the ranger specialty and is an archer.

I mention Spear Thrower in the Orzammar chapter. It is _**NOT**_ the same Spear Thrower that you get in the game. I simply used the name, because it worked for Felyca's bow.

I have played with Fergus' character a little bit more than most; it bothered me that as her brother he didn't mention anything about becoming queen in the epilogue. (shrugs) hope you like it. I didn't really touch Sten's character, but after all the playthroughs that I've done to get this written, I couldn't really write anything for him without making him completely OOC. He is mentioned and I talk about him a bit, but I don't expound his character as much as the others.

I will warn you, all meanwhile chapters are set after Felyca kills the Archdemon, but before the "final" fight. I hope it doesn't get too confusing. I've tried to help you follow it, but I couldn't just re-write the game... what fun would that be?

I did use a lot of dialogue from the game, but I've also added some of my own and rearranged others. Mostly I did that because the writing for this was superb, but I will say that it took at least half a dozen playthroughs for me to get all the responses and what the Warden says.


	2. Prologue

_She wasn't where she was supposed to be. _

_Sort of._

_ She **was** on the top of Fort Drakon, and that **was** the body of the Archdemon at her feet, but... **something** was off! _

_ It was as though the entire world had decided to shimmer around her, everything seemed fluid and yet solid at the same time, almost like looking at something through water..._

_ 'Where am I?' she whispered, glancing around herself. 'Am I in the Fade?' She reached over her shoulder for her bow and found it missing, along with her quiver full of arrows. 'What is this?' she thought, spinning around to get a better look at her immediate surroundings. Her companions didn't stand that far away from her, their shadowy figures staring in awe as she stood above the Archdemon's head. Or rather, as her physical body stood over it, gripping the greatsword she'd used to pierce the Archdemon's skull._

_ "The Maker has some sick sense of humor." she whispered, rubbing the back of her neck. "Hello? Can anyone hear me? Hello?" she shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth to amplify her voice. "Hello? Wynne? Oghren? Sten?" she was getting anxious, and was about to move towards her friends when another voice came to her. _

_ "No need to shout, child, I am right here." She whirled around, ready for a fisticuffs fight if need be, and let her jaw drop in shock._

_ Climbing out of the dragon's body was a __**man;**__ an older man, true, but a man nonetheless. He wore the robes of a mage, open to reveal his bare scarred chest and billowing out behind him. His face was chiseled and lean, with many scars marring the surface of his skin, although the most prominent was the one just between his eyes that went back into his hair line. 'Guess that one's from me.' she thought, taking a cautious step backwards. Aside from the battle scarring, the man was rather beautiful... in that built, manly, warrior sense. His shoulders were broad and his hands were wide and looked as though they were accustomed to strangling the life out of people. She swallowed, and took another careful step backwards. The way the man walked was intimidating, as though he was used to walking through a crowd and being adored. '__Huh.' she thought, crossing her arms across her chest, secure in the distance between them, 'So this must be __Urthemiel_ _.'_

_ Even without her weapons she was far from helpless, but Felyca Cousland was also nobody's fool. She knew how to take stock of the battlefield, how to gauge one's opponent to be aware of their weaknesses before they even drew a weapon. This man was climbing from the body of the **Archdemon**, who had been a bitch to kill already, and she was certain that whatever he was about to do, she probably wouldn't survive._

_ "Well, child, it would seem as though you've had a hard time of it, haven't you?" She swallowed again, unsure if she should answer or not. The mage shrugged and walked to the edge of the roof, overlooking the burning city below. "Then don't answer me. After all I have been watching your progress for some time now... ever since you became a Grey Warden." _

_ Felyca was stunned, "You've been watching me?"_

_ He nodded, "Yes. What did you think? That I couldn't tell that you were a part of the taint?" He looked out over Denerim, "You are as strong as Duncan was, before he passed. And that's saying something." he rubbed the fresh scar on his forehead ruefully, "I should have known you would be the one to kill me." She came over to his side, just outside of arms length, and watched him carefully. "I knew when you became one of them, one of the 'grey ones' as the darkspawn call you, because you have a strong will. You aren't one to let death or destruction get in the way of your duty, although there were times when I had my doubts." He turned to face her now, "Tell me, child. Now that you've killed me what would you do with me?"_

_ "You were supposed to go to Morrigans baby.." she found herself saying and he laughed heartily, "I was? Then what **am** I still doing here?" he moved quickly and took her chin in his hand, "I wonder... perhaps there is something more that I am to learn, before I am sent into the helpless form of a mewling child?" She didn't flinch, didn't even blink as he tried to examine her very soul._

_ "Tell me, Grey Warden. What is your story?"_


	3. Origin

_"I was born in midwinter, to Bryce and Eleanor Cousland, Teyrn and teyrna of Highever. I have an elder brother, Fergus, who was four at the time of my birth..."_

* * *

My stomach dropped. I was sure if I'd looked at my feet I would have seen it lying in a gory puddle on the floor. "Mother... not that I don't want to see father... but... Arl Howe..."

Mother chuckled at the look on my face, "I know he's not the most personable man in the world, but he is a friend of your fathers...so mind your tongue, will you?"

I nodded obediently, but before I stepped out of the room I said over my shoulder, "But if he so much as mentions one of his sons as a husband for me, I will speak my mind." Mother shot me a look, then dropped her face in dismay. As I made my way through the halls of the castle, I couldn't help but smile. It was no secret in the castle that Mother wanted another grandchild and that she would prefer it come from me, but I was in no hurry to shackle myself to a man and family. I was only twenty three years old! I had plenty of time to find a husband... besides, the way Fergus and Oriana were talking, it sounded like they were more than likely to have another child before I even found the right man.

My family, the Couslands, had stewarded the lands of Highever for many generations. It was a proud bloodline, one that I was glad to be a part of. Not that I was overly proud, Maker knows that Mother Mallol would have had my hide if I had even hinted at pride...but was pride in family so bad? Was that really so wrong? Heaving a sigh, I pushed open one of the side doors to the main hall, and walked inside, steeling myself for the oncoming encounter with Arl Rendon Howe.

"I'm sorry pup, I didn't see you there." Father greeted me with a warm smile and a light hug, nothing to long to offend his friends. "Howe you remember my daughter?" I turned to the man standing near my father and nodded congenially to him in recognition.

"I see she's grown into a fine young woman." the man smirked, his eyes quickly flashing as he gave me a cursory once over. I swallowed the bile in my throat quickly, "Pleased to see you again, my dear."

I bowed slightly, really just more of an incline of my head than a bow, "And you, Arl Howe." I kept my tone civil, Father already knew of my distaste for this man.

"My son Thomas was asking after you, I should bring him with me next time."

I tilted my head and cocked an eyebrow, "To what end?" Thomas was at least three years younger than myself and in no way showed that he'd ever had an interest in me.

_ An arranged match then... great. Just what you need, Felyca._ I shuddered inwardly.

_With Thomas Howe? Most likely you'll be shackled to the bed and only allowed out to be paraded about like a prize bull. Yuck. _

_ His elder brother, Nathaniel, however... now that might be a discussion worth having... _

_ Too bad Nathaniel's off in the Free Marches..._

The arl chuckled and looked to my father, "'To what end she says.' So glib too, she sounds just like her mother when she says that." Father chuckled, "See what I contend with Howe? There's no telling my fierce girl anything these days, Maker bless her heart." Howe nodded, "Quite talented, I'm sure... One to watch."

I swallowed a chuckle and turned to my father, "What did you want to talk to me about, Father?"

He smiled and nodded to me, "I have a task for you while your brother and I are away." I braced my legs and crossed my arms, tilting my head in the same way my mabari, Calen, would when he was waiting for a snack. He shook his head and spoke, "I'm leaving you in charge of the castle"

I straightened my shoulders, "What? I'm not going with you?"

Father shook his head, "While I don't doubt that you would more than prove yourself, I don't want to risk your mothers wrath should I bring you along. Only a token force is remaining here and you must keep peace in the region, you know what they say about mice when the cat is away, yes?"

I chewed the inside of my cheek, "Very well."

"That's what I like to hear. Also, there is someone you must meet." He turned to a soldier waiting beside the fire and asked him to show a man called, "Duncan" in. The opposite door opened and a tall dark haired man entered the hall, hair graying at his temples, twin blades strapped to his back and walking with a swagger that hinted at a skilled fighter hidden in the form of a middle aged man. He appeared to be only a few years younger than my father, but the way his shoulders were set told me that despite the quiet demeanor he currently wore, his mind was keen and his wit most likely sharp.

"Welcome to Castle Cousland, Duncan."

The man smiled and bowed respectfully to my father, "It is an honor to be in your hall, Teyrn Cousland."

I glanced at the Arl, who seemed to have been taken by surprise, "Your lordship, you didn't mention that a Grey Warden would be present!"

_ I wonder why he's so surprised... _

"Duncan arrived just recently, unannounced, is there a problem?" The Arl raised an eyebrow, and shook his head, "Of course not! But a guest of this stature demands certain protocol, I'm at a … disadvantage."

_There's something not right here... why should Howe care who Father welcomes as his guest?_

Father nodded, "We rarely have the chance to see one in person, tis true. Pup, Brother Aldous told you who the Grey Wardens are I hope?"

I nodded, and offered my hand in friendship to Duncan, "They are an order of great warriors, as I understand." Duncan accepted my hand and shook it firmly, confirming my earlier assessment of his physical strength.

"Duncan is here looking for recruits, I believe he's got his eye on Ser Gilmore."

Duncan smiled softly, "If I may be so bold, I might suggest that your daughter is also an excellent candidate."

Father drew a defensive breath, and took a step in front of me, as though shielding me from the Wardens gaze. "Honor though that might be, this is my daughter we're talking about."

My brow wrinkled, "Is there I reason I shouldn't join them Father?" Howe chuckled, "You did just finish saying they were heroes, my old friend."

Father folded his arms and glowered at Howe, "I've not so many children that I'll gladly see them all off to war," his fatherly protective gaze fell back to Duncan, "Unless you intend to invoke the Right of Conscription."

_The way he said that...Father, what are you implying?_

Duncan shook his head, "Have no fear; while we need as many good recruits as we can get, I've no intention of forcing the issue."

Father nodded and moved from his position in front of me back to the fire, "Pup, can you ensure that Duncan's requests are seen to while I'm gone?"

I nodded, "Of course, Father."

He smiled, that safe warm fatherly smile that had always signaled the end of a conversation between us, "Now that's what I like to hear. In the meantime, can you find Fergus and tell him to take the troops to Ostagar ahead of me?"

I smirked, and cocked an eyebrow at my father, "Are you trying to get rid of me?"

He shook his head at me and placed a hand on my leather clad shoulder, "Be a good lass and do as I've asked? We'll talk soon." Bowing to Duncan and the Arl, I exited the hall, leaving my father to discuss their battle plans...and trying to ignore the ill feeling settling into the pit of my stomach.

"Don't frighten the boy love, I speak the truth! And here is my little sister to see me off! Dry your eyes love, and wish me well." Fergus had always had a happy heart, he'd never been one to be sad for long.

"Should I wait outside?" I teased, crossing my arms and looking at my brother pointedly.

Fergus laughed at me, "When you have a man in your life, you'll understand."

I shook my head, "I'd prefer to keep my freedom, thank you very much." I sassed and Fergus just laughed, "One day you'll find the one that can handle you, and you may think differently." I shook my head again, "That I _very_ much doubt, brother."

Fergus clapped his hands, "Oh ho! I wish I can be there when you are proven wrong."

My face must have shown my own troubles with him leaving, because Fergus raised an eyebrow at me. Trying to ignore his silent question, I diverted the conversation, "Did you know there's a Grey Warden in the castle?"

Oren nearly jumped up my arm when I mentioned it, "REALLY? Was he riding a griffon?"

Oriana shushed him as Fergus answered, "I'd heard that, did he say why he's come?"

I shrugged, "He says he recruiting." Fergus smiled broadly and laughed, "Oh? If I were a Grey Warden, little sister, I'd have my eye on you. Not that father would ever allow it."

I nodded, glancing over my shoulder, "I wish I could go with you, you will be missed brother."

Fergus' hand clasped my arm, and he smiled gently, "I wish you could come, it'll be tiring killing all those darkspawn myself. And if it's any consolation, I'm sure I'll freeze in the southern rain and be completely jealous of you up here, warm and safe."

I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow at him, knowing he was only trying to soften the blow of his leaving for his young family. "Anyway, Father wanted me to tell you to go on ahead of him."

"Then the arl's men **are** delayed. Makers blood you'd think they're all walking backwards!" Happy heart or not, it was never wise to anger my brother. He was a warrior trained in the ways of shield combat and could just as easily run you through as knock you senseless. He was shaking his head as he spoke next, "Well, off we go then! I'll see you soon, my love."

Calen laid down in front of my small hearth, his usual place at night as I took my evening bath. It was the first thing Father had taught him when he'd given him to me. You could have knocked my mother over with a feather when she saw what Father had given me. Although, as I think back on it, it was probably more that her clever little scheme to keep me from learning to fight had failed.

_"Bryce! That's a pure blood mabari! You can't just give her that!" _

_ Father had lain his hand on Mother's arm, "Just watch." he'd whispered, and watch they did. As soon as he was free of the basket, Calen had bounded over to me and bowled me over, lapping happily at my ten year old face. I giggled hysterically and was soon rolling around the main hall with Calen, wrestling. We'd made it around the room once before Father stopped us, "That's enough, pup. It's time to give him a name." _

_ I sat against my father's legs, rubbing Calen's neck. I didn't have the slightest clue what to call him. "What should I call him?" _

_ Father thought for a moment, then said, "Calen. Like the great Calenhad who united Ferelden."_

My parents, despite their nobility, weren't much different than most others, caring deeply for their children.

_"I would hope, dear boy, that you would wait for us before taking your leave?" _

_ Mother had stepped forward and wrapped Fergus in a tight hug. I'd smiled, knowing that the only other woman allowed to hug my warrior brother was his wife...and even then she had to be discreet about it. "Be well, my son. I will pray for you every day you are gone." _

_ I couldn't stop myself, my anxious gut telling me something was going to be very bad, or go very wrong, in the next few days, "He just might need those prayers." _

_ Oriana had offered up a small prayer then, and Fergus had laughed it away, "And bring us some ale and wenches." he cleared his throat at the look she gave him, and added, "For the men, of course." _

_ Oren was too young to know when _not_ to say something, and had asked, "What's a wench? Is that what you pull on the get the bucket out of the well?" He clearly had to get his _winches_ and _wenches_ straight. _

_ Father had explained it, and Mother had blown out her breath, "Bryce! Maker's breath it's like living with a pair of small boys." her eyes had fallen on me as she spoke next, "At least I have a daughter." Fergus had laughed and returned the hug, happily, "I'll miss you mother dear. You will take care of her, sister?" _

_ I nodded, then said, "Mother can take care of herself, always has. Besides, you'll be needing more protecting than her." Fergus returned the nod and released Mother, "True. They should be sending her, not me. She could scold those darkspawn back into the Deep Roads."_

_ Oriana had scoffed, "I agree with Felyca, especially if you get yourself hurt! I'll never forgive you."_

_ Fergus grinned wickedly at his wife then winked at me, "That is a good incentive, wouldn't you say?"_

_ Father was laughing heartily at this point and waved his hands, "Enough! Enough." he turned to me, after offering his arm to mother, "I understand that dinner is being served as we speak. You'd best grab a plate before going to bed, you'll have a busy day tomorrow."_

Fergus had eaten a small part of the meal with us before leaving with his soldiers. "Don't get too worried," he'd whispered to me as he'd hugged me farewell, "I'll be back before you know it, and then I'll be helping mother get you a husband."

I lowered my lashes and let my lower lip jut out even more before hissing, "Have a fun traveling, alone. In the cold!" He'd laughed heartily then gripped me tight, "I still wish I was going with you." He stepped back from me and smiled sadly, "I wish that too; it would be fun, riding together." He rubbed the top of my head the way he used to when I was young, "At any rate, take care of everyone for me, and be here when I get back."

I nodded firmly, and he'd left the hall. The last thing I saw of him was shouting orders to his second before vaulting into his saddle and riding away in a cloud of Highever dust.

It wasn't a restful sleep that I got that night. Just past midnight, there were loud footsteps in the hall outside my door, and then some muffled screaming. Sitting up, the blankets falling across my lap, I rubbed my eyes as Calen growled at the closed door. I could faintly hear what sounded like loud thuds against barred wood.

.._the main gate? Who would be asking entrance at this hour?_ I thought, sliding out of bed and slipping my armor over my thin nightshirt. Calen continued to bark and growl at the door, his hackles raised, "What is it, Calen? Is someone out there?"

As though to answer my question, the door was flung open and one of the many castle servants came barreling in, "My lady, help me! The castle is under attack!" Before I could speak, an arrow, shot from behind, protruded from his chest and he fell to the floor. Quickly, I grabbed up my twin daggers and threw one of my throwing knives at the soldier behind the fallen servant. As he fell, three more appeared behind him, and I dealt with them as quickly.

Four soldiers... _these aren't Father's men!_ I knelt to investigate their bodies. One of the men bore a shield... _The Howe crest? Arl HOWE is attacking the castle! That can't..._ my gaze lifted to my brother's bedroom door, and I remembered how a scream had woken me.

_ Nooo ...No,no, no, no!_

I was just propelling myself upwards and towards the door when my parents room opened. I reacted, gripping the dagger in my right hand, I took my stance, ready to fight. I was shocked to see my mother emerge, clad in studded leather and wielding her longbow. "Darling! I heard fighting outside and I feared the worst, are you hurt? Maker's breath, that can't be all your blood!"

I shook my head no as she stepped closer to me to be sure that I wasn't seriously injured. I'd taken a nick or two from dodging arrows, but I didn't think it was anything serious.

"A scream woke me up, there were men in the hall so I barred the door. Did you see their shields? Those are _Howe's_ men, why would they attack us?"

I didn't have an answer.

"Have you seen your father? He never came to bed."

I felt so helpless, again I had no answer, all I could say was, "We should check on Oriana and Oren."

Mothers face paled, "Andraste's mercy! What if they went to your brothers room first! We should check on them, then find your father!"

We walked in on a massacre...

* * *

My mind wandered to my family, now dead... my brothers body possibly amongst those Duncan and I had passed on our way out of the castle, or worse, taken prisoner by Howe to be tortured. I shook my head and pressed my fingers against my temples.

_ No, don't think about that._

But my mind didn't obey. It flashed through images, horrors that I thought I would only see in battle. My sister-in-laws body, crumpled and bleeding next to the limp form of my nephew... my mothers voice as she saw the sight... my mother... I'd tried to warn her in our last conversation before the attack.

_"I have a bad feeling about this." _

_ Didn't I tell her that? Why didn't we act on those feelings?_

Then again, all I had was my gut roiling in anxious dances, nothing solid to prove anything, until it was too late. I shook my head again, and lay back against the small bedroll Duncan had given me, and my mind continued down its torturous path... Ser Gilmore, my first crush, straining against the gates as the battering ram pounded the heavy wood. How I wished I could have brought him with me. If his sacrificial act wasn't enough to gain him entrance to the Wardens, nothing would. Gilmore was my usual sparring partner, and one of my father's best soldiers...

My father. The last I'd seen him he was broken, bleeding, and utterly defeated on the larder floor, only paces away from freedom...

_ "Father!" I cried, falling on my knees next to Mother, gripping his arm. _

_ "Maker's blood what's happening? YOU'RE BLEEDING!" Mother asked while I had tried to __examine Father's wound. He stubbornly refused, "Howe's men, found me first... almost... did me in... __right there." _

_ "How did you get in here? You can barely move!" _

_ Father grimaced, "Duncan... found me, brought me here." _

_ Mother was frantic,"And left you lying in your own blood? We must get you out of here!" _

_ Father shook his head, "I won't survive the standing, I think." _

_ I refused to believe that Father, my great and powerful father could fall like this... by a traitors sword. "That's not true, we can help you!" _

_ Father smirked at me, a pain from more than his wounds in his eyes "Oh, my darling girl, if only will could make it so." _

_ Mother was already thinking two steps ahead, "Once Howe's men breach the gates, they will find us, we must go!" _

_ Father nodded at first, then shook his head as I tried to pull him to his feet, "Someone, must reach Fergus. Tell him what's happened." _

_ My head was moving back and forth, I couldn't believe this. If I heard it second hand I would have cut out the messengers tongue for weaving such a lie, "No. You can tell him yourself, Father!" _

_ "Bryce, no! The servants passage is right here! We can get you out, we can get you healing magic." Father was shaking his head as Duncan walked in, "The castle is surrounded, I'm afraid I won't make it." _

_ Duncan dropped to one knee next to us, glancing over my attempts at bandaging my father. I was too busy trying to ignore the pool of blood beginning around his torso. "I'm afraid the teyrn is correct, Howe's men haven't yet found this exit, but the castle is surrounded. Getting past will be difficult." _

_ Mother addressed him as I held Father's hand, trying to convince him to move. "You are Duncan, the Grey Warden?" Duncan nodded in deference, "Yes, your ladyship, the teyrn and I tried to reach you sooner." Mother glanced at me then, "My daughter brought me here, Maker be praised." _

_ Duncan smirked and caught my glance, "I am not surprised." I shook it off, it was my father that mattered now, not who brought my mother to safety. "Thank you, for saving my father." Duncan's face faltered, "I'm afraid your thanks are premature, I doubt I have saved him." _

That was when the impossible had happened, Father had allowed me to become a Grey Warden! Granted, Duncan had the upper hand in the situation... it wasn't as though Father could out and out refuse that I not be one. I accepted, readily. I'd had that conversation with Ser Gilmore and my brother; both had said I would be an excellent Warden. Why not! Then... then Mother... Mother had refused to go. She was to stay behind, buy us time to escape...

I sat up again, angry, and grabbed a pine cone that lay nearby. Tossing it up in my hand first, I hurled it into the flames of the small campfire, and crossed my legs, resting my elbows on my knees. "If you had stayed, you would be dead as well." Duncan's voice came from somewhere in the soft blackness on my right. I huffed, knowing that he had a point, but Andraste's flaming sword if I didn't like the idea of going through life without a family. I was trained to fight, I knew what possibilities lay ahead of my father and brother as they prepared for war, but this? This wasn't a death worthy of my father, death by a traitors sword.

A traitor that didn't even have the guts to do his dirty deed himself! That was what made me angry the most, as I reached over and gripped the family sword I'd rescued from the treasury. It had been in the use of a Cousland since the days of Calenhad, and I would use it to remove Howe's head from his shoulders... if I ever found him.

* * *

Duncan watched his new charge wrestle with her emotions, trying to keep them in check. Taking a deep breath, almost regretting what he was about to do – but only almost – he got up from his bedroll and scooted next to her, wrapping a friendly arm around her shoulders, "Do you need to talk?"

She held her breath for a moment, then blew it out in a great huff, "I suppose I should... I might not be able to think about them otherwise." He waited, letting her collect her thoughts, sorting through memories that she'd nearly forgotten. Unconsciously, she fingered the Cousland blade in her lap, point thankfully away from him, staring into the fire. "I should have made mother come with us." she pushed an errant log deeper into the flames with her foot, bringing it back quickly as the flames leapt into the air. "I could have carried Father out... I should have woken up earlier and saved Oren and Oriana." Her voice sounded strained, as though her throat was constricting with tears she refused to cry.

Duncan remembered having met the people she'd mentioned, at dinner just before the massacre. "How old was Oren?"

She choked, "He had just turned seven." she shook her head and pulled out of his grasp, "Don't get me wrong, Duncan, I am grateful for what you did, truly I am. But was it necessary... Why did the Maker think it right that my entire family die in order for this to happen?"

"I am sorry. But you know that you couldn't have done anything more than what you did. No one, not even I, could have done more than what you did. No one expected Howe to turn on your father." She shook her head, and brought her knees up under her chin. Her dog, Calen she said his name was, pressed his nose against her calf, a soft whine coming from his throat. Duncan watched as she absently put a hand on the back of the hounds head and rubbed. After a moment, she lifted her head from her knees and pulled the mabari close, burying her face in his close cropped fur. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs, and Duncan couldn't take it anymore. He put a hand on her shoulder and gripped it gently.

Her shoulders continued to shake, and he was surprised to hear her give a hoarse laugh, "Some Grey Warden I'll make if I keep falling to pieces like this." she pulled back from her hound and wiped at her cheeks. Calen barked at her, seeming to argue with that thought, and Duncan chuckled.

"Don't you worry about that. The Grey Wardens take people from every race, every gender, and every land. You'll met them soon enough, and you'll see that you're not the only one that death affects this way." She snorted and raised an eyebrow at him; there it was, her usual sass and the spunk he'd first seen from her.

_She'd been in the main yard, clad in leather and sparring with a couple of the men when he'd first arrived. He'd watched in amazement as she flipped over one soldier and slapped another across the back of his legs with the flat of a dagger. Two dropped while four more stood closing in on her; one came closer, sword drawn and shield raised. She took several steps backwards to her hound and almost as though they had a shared mind, the hound lowered himself to the ground; she stepped onto his back, barely putting her weight on the animal, and she lifted himself up, propelling her into the air. She twisted around and grabbed the wall of the viewing area, and pulled herself up onto the ledge. She hadn't even noticed him standing there, along with the other Grey Wardens he'd brought with him, as she brought her bow into play and fired four arrows, each landing next to one of the soldiers and signaling the end of the round. One of the men had looked up at her, leg crooked around the pillar, bow and arrow still held at the ready, and laughed heartily. "My lady, you win." the girl on the ledge had lowered her bow, letting the string slacken as she replaced the bow in the quiver on her back. She reached up, removed her leather helm and shook her hair loose down her shoulders. Two braids of purple brown hair fell into her face as she raked her fingers through it, brushing the bulk back from her eyes. She uncrooked her leg from around the pillar and stood on the floor. She leaned out over the arena and whistled for her hound. The mabari sat up straight and cocked his head to one side, "Well then, as the acknowledged winner I say that you, Ser Gilmore, get to bathe my hound. Mother wants him clean for that parade today." the mabari had barked happily and Gilmore had dropped his head in mock dismay. The woman before him had laughed again, and returned her bow to the slot on her quiver. Without a second thought she swung her legs over the edge and dropped to the ground, flipping in midair to soften her landing. She set about gathering up the tossed weapons along with the other men as Gilmore took the hound out of the arena. Duncan watched in amazement as she walked back with the other soldiers, laughing and talking with them as though she was simply 'one of the boys'._

The bann of the southern holdings of Highever had promoted the tourney to show his best fighters, and they'd come away with a knight, Ser Jory, that week. But the one thing that Duncan really remembered from that was the Lady Cousland; how she fought, not only in the sparring ring but the arena proper, as she, her hound, and her brother had fought in the group battles. Duncan had asked after her then, and when he heard that she was the teyrn's daughter, he'd been intrigued to say the least. A woman of her station normally would have been bred to marry a nobleman, raise fat babies and live a good long life. Not fight like a warrior alongside her fathers' soldiers.

He took a deep breath, and looked into the fire, letting her settle back onto her bedroll, the Cousland blade tight in her grip and Calen, ever vigilant, by her side. "When we reach Ostagar, I will speak with King Cailan, see if there is something he can do for your family." She shifted, her bright gray eyes peering at him through half closed lids, as though trying to see if he really meant it.

She must have been able to read him well, because she smiled, "Thank you, Duncan... that would mean a lot."

Duncan smiled, "To Ostagar then!"

She nodded, "To Ostagar..." she was half asleep when her next words crossed her lips, "Where _is_ Ostagar, anyway?"


	4. Ostagar part 1

I was tired, cold and hungry. Calen was beginning to smell foul and I knew I couldn't smell much nicer, but dang if I was going to wash up in that river! It looked polluted! Not to mention freezing cold. Yeah, like cold water's going to make me smell any nicer. A nice warm bath, a hot meal, and maybe... just maybe, someone telling me that my brother was alive and well and sitting over by whatever fire was closest to the strongest ale, cause Maker help me if he wasn't going to need it. Hell, I could use it! I was just a few steps behind Duncan as he was telling me about the Grey Wardens, and how they were in the camp with the king, how I would meet them, and all that when he stopped moving.

"King Cailan?" he said, making me look up from the ground I was examining, rather intently I'm ashamed to admit. The man he was addressing looked as though he could whelp both Father and Fergus in a duel and then would have the good humor enough to share a drink with them afterward. He wore golden plate armor, clearly meant to be more ceremonial than anything else, but it looked large and unwieldy, I surely wouldn't be able to move an inch in it, if I could move at all. It helped add to his stature, that was for certain, and that set me on edge. I was so used to being able to tell how a man fought just by looking at him, but this...

W_ait a moment, did he say King Cailan?_

"...a royal welcome? I was beginning to worry you'd miss all the fun."

_Fun? He thinks killing things is fun? _

_ Admit it Felyca, you think so too... _

_ Only sometimes!_

"Then I'll have the mighty Duncan at my side in battle after all, glorious! The other Wardens mentioned that you'd found a promising recruit, I take it this is she?" Duncan nodded and Cailan addressed me directly, "You are Bryce's youngest are you not? I don't believe we've ever actually met."

I couldn't speak... _Maker forgive me, why can't I speak! _I swallowed, "Yes, I am Felyca, Your Majesty." I almost curtsied, they way my mother told me to if ever I would meet royalty, but decided against it. I couldn't exactly curtsy in armor, could I? I inclined my head instead, and offered my hand in friendship.

"You're brother has already arrived with Highever's men, but we are still waiting on your father."

_ Father..._

I swallowed again, and I couldn't... "I... you haven't heard then? My father isn't coming. He... he was killed when Highever was overrun."

Cailan was shocked, "News from the north has been... unreliable at best, but dead? Duncan, do you know anything about this?"

Duncan nodded, giving me a sympathetic look, "Arl Howe has proven himself a traitor and overtaken Highever castle. If we had not escaped he would have killed us, and told you any story he wished." The king walked away from us, I could feel the shock and anger rolling from his shoulders.

"I can... I can scarcely believe it! Why would Howe do such a thing?" I must have smirked, because he shook his head, "I promise you this, once this business with the Blight is ended he will see justice."

_ Fergus, I need to find Fergus._

"What kind of justice?"

The king looked at me, a sad angry look coming to his face, "He will hang. I know it is a small comfort and won't bring your family back, but Howe will not profit from this." I nodded, I could accept that. There was little he could do about it now with him being here and Howe out who knew where, probably spreading lies about my father.

_ If he calls my Father a traitor I will cut his lying tongue from his mouth and make him eat it. _

King Cailan was watching me carefully, and I attempted a smile, "I presume you would like to see your brother?"

My heart jumped, "Is he here? In the camp?"

Cailan shook his head at me and whatever sight of a smile left my face, "He took a scouting party into the Wilds this morning. I don't expect him back before the battle."

I lowered my gaze to the ground and kicked at a loose stone. "I am not over eager to tell him, sire."

He chuckled softly, and I felt a metal clad hand grip my arm, "I don't imagine that you are. Until he returns, however, I'll ask that you vent your grief on the darkspawn."

I nodded again, trying desperately to keep my heart from leaping out of my chest. "Thank you, Your Majesty." I murmured, and he stepped away from me, addressing Duncan.

"Is there any other news?" Duncan nodded and filled him in as I knelt next to Calen and rubbed his neck, keeping him close. "I'm not even sure this is a true Blight. There are plenty of Darkspawn on the field, but alas there has been no sign of an Archdemon."

"Disappointed, Your Majesty?"

"I'd hoped for a war like in the tales. A king riding with the fabled Grey Wardens against a tainted god, but I suppose this will have to do. I'd better get going before Loghain sends out a search party. Farewell, Grey Wardens."

I bowed to him as he left, and Duncan turned to me. "What the king said is true, they have won several battles here..."

He was talking slowly, and it piqued my interest, "He seemed very confident about it, but you don't sound very reassured."

He shook his head and led me through the small camp on this side of the Ostagar valley, "I'm not. Things are going well, but I know in my gut there is an Archdemon behind this, and while he has yet to show himself, I cannot help but think that there is something else at work here."

"What would you have the king do?" he stopped and glanced around, "Wait for reinforcements. We sent word to the Grey Wardens of Orlais, but they won't be here for another week." I raised an eyebrow, it was a bit of a predicament, that was for certain. "That is why we should proceed with the ritual without delay."

I put a hand over my belly that had started growling, "A hot meal might be nice first."

He chuckled, "I agree. Take your time exploring the camp, there are a few sights you might enjoy seeing. Also, there is another Grey Warden around the camp by the name of Alistair. You might want to look for him while you're exploring, he can help explain some things to you... and show you the way to my tent when you are ready." I nodded to him, then let my hand rest on Calen's head, "Your hound can come with me while I take care of some business." Calen barked agreeably at that and tilted his head to him, "Come on then, Calen." I watched my hound bound away from me, following the Grey Warden as he walked across the chasm. I shook my head, there was only one other person that my hound followed like that – other than myself of course – my brother, Fergus. My eyes shifted to the vast bog of the Wilds.

_ Fergus... I will find you. I swear it._

I was halfway around the compound when I heard the shouting. "I will not be harassed in this manner!"

_ Who in the..._

I walked towards the ramp leading to where I'd been told the mages were housed, "Should I have asked her to write a note?" I snorted, then coughed, trying to hide it. A few people near me looked at me strangely, but I ignored them. _Well, the man had it coming to him!_ I thought, taking a few careful steps closer to hear them better... hopefully without being noticed. "And here I thought we were getting along so well. I was even going to name one of my children after you... the **grumpy** one." I had to work to hide my laugh then, and it took everything I had to not burst right then and there. I wasn't even supposed to be listening to this; I needed be looking for this man called Alistair, but I had no idea what this man looked like! I'd asked around for him, but I'd only gotten a basic direction "Try to the north, near the mages" and I wasn't about to ask a mage where he could be. So I just leaned back and watched the argument, it was rather entertaining after all.

One had dark hair and was dressed as a mage of the Circle, but he wasn't the one that really caught my attention. It was his speaking companion; he had reddish blonde hair, cut loose and swept back to show his face. His jaw was strong and lent an air of superiority over the mage he spoke with and although he was dressed in basic splintmail, he looked as though he could take on the entire army. I was trying to ignore his rapier wit and the speed at which he could give a retort when suddenly I was being shoved out of someone's way, "Out of my way, fool!" it was the mage as he stormed away from the soldier.

"You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together." I was still watching the mage walk away in a huff so I only half heard him, "I see what you mean." I muttered, then I processed what he'd said and exclaimed, "Sorry, what did you say?" he smiled, as though he'd been expecting that reaction. "Oh nothing, just trying to find a bright side to all this." He opened his mouth again and asked me something, but I didn't hear it. I was too taken in by how much more handsome he looked in the sunlight... or was it up close?

_Felyca, he just asked you a question! Answer him!_

I shook my head at him, vaguely recalling what he'd asked, "No, I'm no mage."

His head bobbed once, "Good, less being yelled at for me then. But the day is still young." he glanced behind me, as though looking for someone, then nearly slapped himself as he spoke, "Wait, I do know you! You're Duncan's newest recruit, from Highever!"

I smiled and nodded," I should have recognized you right away, I apologize." My brow wrinkled, and I wondered, "How would you recognize me?" He shrugged, "Duncan sent word, described you in rather fine detail."

"Pleased to meet you, I'm Felyca." I offered my hand for him to shake.

_Nice firm grip... accustomed to holding a sword..._

"Right, that was the name. You know, I've noticed that there aren't many women in the Grey Wardens... I wonder why that is."

I raised an eyebrow, and couldn't help myself, "Maybe because we're too smart for you."

He chuckled, "True, but if you're here, then what does that make you?" I shrugged, giving him my 'I really don't know' look_._ "Let me introduce myself, I'm Alistair, although I bet you already knew that." I smiled, he really did have a nice sense of humor. "As the junior member of the Order, I'll be accompanying you as you prepare for the Joining. So I'm curious, have you encountered any darkspawn before?" I shook my head no. "When I fought my first one, I wasn't prepared for how monstrous it was. Can't say I'm looking forward to encountering another. Anyhow, we'd best get to Duncan. I'm sure he's ready to get things started." He led me out of the small temple like area and down a side path, well away from the mages. He moved ahead of me a ways and I had to jog slightly to catch up, "So that argument... what was it about?"

He looked over at me, "What, with the mage?" I nodded, barely keeping up with his long strides, _thank you mother for teaching me to be a rogue fighter. _"Oh, that was nothing, just normal occurrences in the life of Alistair."

I chuckled and looked away to where we were headed. "If you don't want to tell me that's fine, I was just curious, as the whole camp is I'm sure."

He grimaced, "I was sent with a message to the mages from the revered mother. Which makes things rather awkward, I used to be a Templar." I raised my eyebrows and made that 'oh, now I get it' face. He grinned, _much better than the grimace,_ I decided. "I'm sure the revered mother meant it as an insult, sending me as her messenger and the mage picked right up on that. The Chantry loves making mages know how unwelcome they are. I would never have agreed to deliver it, but Duncan says 'we're all to work together and get along'. Apparently they didn't get the same speech."

I started chuckling, "I would think that obvious." He gave me a look, but before he could really say anything, we'd reached Duncan's fire. Calen was lying contentedly beside Duncan and lifted his head lazily at my approach.

"Who's mabari?" Alistair asked, looking at Duncan. I knelt next to Calen and scratched his head. Ser Jory and Daveth were standing back a ways from Calen, as though they were scared that he would bite an arm off. I chuckled, and lightly kissed the top of his head, listening to Duncan talk with Alistair.

"Assuming of course that you're quite finished riling up mages, Alistair?" Alistair glanced away, then shrugged, "What can I say? The revered mother ambushed me. The way she wields guilt... they should stick her in the army."

"She forced you to sass the mage did she? We cannot afford to antagonize anyone, Alistair. We don't need to give anyone more ammunition against us." Alistair looked at me, I was trying to blend into the background. I knew what it felt like to be scolded in front of witnesses. I turned my face away, becoming more and more interested in Calen's fur.

"I apologize, Duncan." Duncan nodded and I stood back up, hoping the scolding part of the day was done.

* * *

As Alistair led the group through the Wilds, searching for that archive, his mind reeled in thoughts about the newest member of the little band. She was a stunning piece of work, even in her leather armor and short cut hair. The way those braids fell on her cheeks, her hair was the most amazing shade of brown, it shimmered almost purple in the sunlight. They were attacked by wolves almost instantly as they exited the gate, and she'd been the first to see them. Her bow had come into play before he could even draw his sword, and she'd fired two arrows as he ran towards them. The first had hit its target and knocked it backwards while the other appeared to shatter before his eyes, splintering into four different pieces and hitting the nearby attacking wolves. Once having dispatched the animals, he turned to her and watched as she knelt to gather up the shattered bits of wood that had been the arrow. "What was that?" he asked as she held the pieces in her hand.

She was shaking her head unhappily, _Not sure I like that look. _"I'll have to make another one." she threw the pieces on the ground and brushed her hands together to get rid of any splintered bits.

He looked hard at her, "You didn't answer my question." She glanced at him, surprised, then set about scanning the horizon.

_Vigilant, I can see why Duncan liked this one._

"I'm waiting." he said as she nodded, more to herself than anyone else.

She looked at him, then at the shattered wood at her feet, "My father called it the shatter shot; the arrow is cut in specific spots so that when it impacts on the target it shatters, hitting those nearby." She glanced at him, "It usually stuns them long enough for me to reload and take them out one at a time. And those I can't get are taken out by my..." she looked away, "My fighting companions."

Alistair bit his lip, "Wouldn't that hit your allies?" She smirked and shook her head, "No, I usually fire fast enough that it wouldn't interfere with them; although this was the first time I've used it in a fight with someone who didn't know what I was doing. I'm sorry, I should have told you about my technique." Alistair opened his mouth to speak when there came a sound from just beyond the line of trees in front of them. "Help." she breathed, and took off down a small, almost indiscernible path through the glade to where a soldier was dragging himself along the ground, a ragged trail of blood leading away behind him. She reached him first, and dropped to her knee next to him, setting her bow on the ground next to her, in easy reach if they were ambushed.

"Help... who is that... Grey Wardens?"

"Well, he's not half as dead as he looks, is he?" Alistair remarked, but she ignored him.

Instead she rested a finger against the soldiers lips, "Shh, just tell us what happened." the soldier nodded painfully as she rolled him onto his back to investigate the wound at his side. It wasn't that deep of a gash, but it was wide.

"My scouting band was attacked by darkspawn, they just came out of the ground. Please, help me... I've got to... return to camp."

She shook her head, "Don't be insane, you can barely move, make it on your own... not really. We can take you back."

The soldier was stubborn, "No... I can make it... if you could just bandage me up, at least."

She looked up at Alistair, "Do you..."

He raised and eyebrow, then started as he registered what she was asking, "I have bandages in my pack." He knelt down next to her, and she set about removing the man's breastplate. Alistair was just placing the bandages against the wound when her hand covered his, pressing against the wounded man and tying the bandage to him. Once she was done, they replaced the mans breastplate and helped the soldier roll onto his knees. He thanked them as they helped him to his feet and as they watched the man walk past, he caught a glimpse of something in her face... sadness? Fear? Recognition? He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he knew it would bother him until he found out what it really meant.

"Did you hear? An entire patrol of seasoned men cut down by darkspawn." It was Ser Jory who spoke, and caught Alistair's attention away from her.

Shaking his head, he replied "Calm down, Ser Jory. We'll be fine if we're careful."

_ Real careful... there's at least four over the next ridge._

"Those soldiers were careful and they were overwhelmed! And just how many darkspawn can the four of us slay? A dozen? A hundred? There is an entire **army** in these forests." Alistair glanced at their female counterpart, who was now scanning the horizon, as though she expected someone to come walking towards them. Her arms were tense, but not with fear... anticipation? Her bow was in her left hand while her right twitched near her belt. What had her so enthralled that she was all but ignoring them?

Alistair sighed, "There are darkspawn about, but we're in no danger of walking into the bulk of the horde."

_ I'll brown my trousers first, then make them run back as fast as they can.. especially her. Fighter or not, a woman doesn't deserve to die like this._

She looked back at him, as though she could read his thoughts. _Creepy..._ she smirked and kicked at the ground, _maybe not so creepy._ Jory was getting angry, "How do you know? I'm not a coward, but this is foolish and reckless, we should go back."

She took a great breath and blew it out fast, as though she thought that Jory was, in fact, acting cowardly. "We're far from helpless here. We will be fine, and besides, these encounters are part of our test."

Jory turned on her, but when he faced her, all of his bluster flew from him. "I..." She stood at her full height, as though she were used to commanding men, her calm gaze silencing most of his fears and her own presence seeming to be a soothing balm to his soul. "I am simply trying to stay alive. You do not see me fleeing, do you?"

_ That's a cool trick... wonder if that's why Duncan recruited her... Focus, Alistair, focus!_

Alistair spoke before she could retort, "A bit of fear isn't unnatural, you know. Few relish meeting Darkspawn. I know I don't."

"I still do not relish the idea of encountering an army!"

Her face had gone white, but she still had the presence of mind to say, "It appears I'm the only man here!"

_ Maybe whomever she's looking for... yes, that's it, she's worried about someone._

"I know I'm relying on you to protect me." he smirked at her, then turned to Jory, "Know this: all Grey Wardens can sense darkspawn. Whatever their cunning, I guarantee we won't be taken by surprise. That's why I'm here." His hand had come to rest on her shoulder. He'd meant for it to be a reassurance to her, which Daveth seemed to take offense to.

Daveth chuckled and spoke up, "You see Ser knight? We may die, but we'll be warned about it first." Jory glared at him, "That's … reassuring?" Alistair shook his head, "That doesn't mean that I'm here to make things easy however, let's get a move on."

* * *

I closed my eyes and turned my face to the setting sun, trying to ignore the weight of Alistair's hand on my shoulder. It was something that Fergus had done so soften when I was younger and training that my mind had a hard time accepting another doing it.

_ Please Andraste, let him be alright._

"Let who be alright?" came a voice on my right, and I turned in surprise. Alistair was watching me. He removed his hand, taking a tight grip on his sword and watching Jory and Daveth move forward.

I smiled, playing with my bow as I tried to ignore the question, "My brother... he came here earlier with Highever's men and was sent on a scouting mission into the Wilds."

His face changed, "Was that soldier..?" I shook my head, "No, he wasn't one of our men." His head tilted, "Our? Your brother brought your banns troops?"

I smirked, _Our bann? You don't even know the half of it. I wonder what you would do if you discovered my heritage. _"He arrived before I did and I need to find him."

He cocked an eyebrow at me, "Why?" I drew a deep breath and looked at him.

_ Until you know how far Howes reach really is, you'd better not tell him specifically who you are __Felyca._

"He's the only relative I have left."

Alistair was taken aback, that was obviously not the answer he'd been expecting. "I... I'm sorry..." I must have smirked, because his face went all red as he processed what I'd said. Then his head snapped to our left and he shouted, "Darkspawn. Jory, get down!" Jory dropped to his knee and raised his greatsword just in time to block the falling blade of a Genlock. I raised my bow, but fell forward onto my hands and knees, dropping the weapon. I could hear the darkspawn laughing behind me, it was deep and guttural and made my skin crawl. Quickly I shifted my weight onto my hands and flipped myself over, kicking the darkspawn in the gut as I used him to help me over. Once back on my feet I drew my longsword and swung low, taking him out at the knees. As the man sized beast fell backwards I stepped closer and drive the point of the blade into his heart...or where his heart would have been if he had one. I heard the men come running back to me, Daveth's heavy curse as he saw me bent over the dead body, wiping my blade on what I assumed was darkspawn clothing. I glanced up at them, and held out my hand for the vials that Duncan had given us to hold the blood when we got it. "Careful, here..." Alistair knelt next to me and showed me where to nick the artery in its neck for the best flow. It spilled out onto my hands, burning my skin and making me hiss. I drew my hand back and was about to put it in my mouth when Alistair grabbed my wrist. "Don't... it's poison. Here, wipe it off with this." He gave me a kerchief, splotched in places from things I doubted I wanted to think about. The blood was black as sin, and as I cleaned my hand I could see where it had even started to congeal.

"Ugh." I grunted, trying not to lose the small lunch I'd had.

He looked over at me and chuckled, "I tried to warn you."

I bit my lip and shook my head, _Don't get all girly on me now, Felyca. You still need to avenge your family!_ "I should have warned **you**, I never listen to stuff like that." _Neither did Mother, and look where she is now._ My heart faltered, I didn't want to think about that right now. I couldn't think about that, I had a job to do! I took a deep breath and got to my feet, "Right. Now where to?"

He pulled out a folded, hand drawn map and I stepped closer, trying to get a better look at the area he was pointing to, "The archive is about... here." I glanced over his shoulder, to where the tower should have been. If it was still intact, I might have even been able to see it, but Duncan had warned us that it might be a ruin.

Daveth's face clouded, "It's in the middle of a lake!"Alistair smirked and shook his head.

"Looks like we just need to go around this bog, and up that hill." I pointed out the route to our companions. Ser Jory nodded to me, and Daveth gave me that smile he'd been wearing for a while.

_ Why is it, that whenever men are around me they get like that?_

I shifted the weight of my weaponry, readjusting how my longsword, the Cousland family blade, sat beneath the quiver. It wasn't that I was uncomfortable with how men would look at me, I just didn't need it right now. Normally I would be able to shrug it off, or laugh it away, but now... I didn't need the distraction. No, my focus right now was on becoming a Grey Warden. My mother gave her life that I might have this chance. I wasn't about to foul it up.


	5. Ostagar part 2

"My, my, what have we here? Are you a vulture, I wonder? A scavenger, poking amidst the corpse who's bones were long since cleaned? Or merely an intruder, come into these darkspawn filled Wilds of mine in search of easy prey? Hmm?" Her eyes were glued to mine, but I didn't blink. "What say you, scavenger or intruder?"

"Intruder? And just how are these your Wilds?"

"Because I know them as only one who owns them could. Can you claim the same? I have watched your progress for some time; 'Where do they go,' I wonder, 'Why are they here?'"

Alistair grabbed my arm. "Don't answer her, she looks Chasind and that means others may be nearby."

"Ooh, you fear barbarians will swoop down upon you!"

"Yes, swooping is bad."

"She's a Witch of the Wilds she is! She'll turn us all into toads!"

"Witch of the Wilds? Oh such idle fancies, those legends. You there," she pointed at me, "women do not scare like little boys. Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine."

"I am Felyca, pleasure to meet you"

"Now that is a proper civil greeting, even here in the Wilds. You may call me Morrigan. Shall I guess your purpose? You sought something, something that is here no longer?"

"Here no longer? You stole them didn't you?"

"How does one steal from dead men?"

"Quite easily it seems. Those documents are Grey Warden property, and I suggest that you return them."

Morrigan got real huffy, "I will not, for it was not I who removed them."

I rolled my eyes, "Then who removed them?"

"Twas my mother, in fact."

"Your mother... is this a joke?" It really did sound like one.

"If so, would seem the truthful rather than funny sort, no?"

"Great! She's a thieving, weird-talking, funny sort of witch."

"Not all in the Wilds are monsters. Flowers grow, as well as _toads_. If you wish, I will take you to my mother. 'Tis not far from here and you may ask her for your papers if you wish."

"She'll put us all in the pot she will! Just you watch!"

"If the pot is warmer than this forest it will be a welcome change."

I glanced at Alistair and shrugged, "I say we go with her."

"Follow me then, if it pleases you."

If Morrigan had been strange, her mother was indescribable. We didn't even get a name out of her. Just the treaties and a few cryptic words. Daveth had claimed that she was a witch of the wilds, but I highly doubted that. Of all the stories I'd heard and all the histories I'd read, would a witch of the wilds really welcome four battle hardened people into her camp... that willingly? Even if she had been, she didn't seem all that threatening... at least not to me. We'd made it back to camp safe enough, although Duncan had been called away to some meeting before we'd returned. "He'll probably be back before you know it." a soldier had said to us as we'd been ushered to the Grey Warden encampment.

Alistair had pointed out a few of the older Wardens as we'd passed, leading us eventually to the main cook fire and a larger grouping. "Duncan's tent is right over there." he'd pointed it out to me as he led Jory and Daveth towards another gathering of men.

I didn't quite understand why he'd done that until a elf woman approached me and said, "Are you the new Warden recruit?"

I nodded, "One of them, yes."

She grinned slightly, "The one from Highever?" I nodded again, slower this time. She smiled broadly, "Oh good. I was told that you might wish to change from your armor, for the evening. My lord asked me to give you this." She handed me a soft package wrapped in basic paper and twine, obviously a gown of some sort. I'd been receiving them as gifts for years, I had sometimes joked that I could have guessed the color of the fabric before I even opened the wrappings. Before I could ask whom her generous lord was, she'd run off into the small crowd. Shaking my head, I peeked into Duncan's tent and found that there were in fact two pallets made out. Obviously one for him, and the other for whatever guest he'd acquired over the course of his stay. Tying the flap shut against the support post, I opened the package.

It wasn't much, but I could see the care that had gone into it. The Couslands were second in power after the king.. .and perhaps Teyrn Loghain, but only because his daughter was queen... and this gown reflected that. Its shoulders were cut to fall below mine, with a halter neckline that was made of sheer fabric and came down over the cloth bodice, just below the bust. The sleeves were wide, fastened at the elbow then cut to fall away, revealing the forearm and helped accentuate the slim cut of the waist. It was just this side of practical, but after three weeks of wearing only my armor and a filthy nightshirt, it looked like a grand ball gown. Duncan had seen to it that a basin of water be brought into his tent, and it was still warm. I quickly rinsed out my hair and splashed some water over my arms and legs. I threw out my filthy nightshirt and then pulled the new dress over my head. There was a traveling cloak packaged with the gown, and when I opened it, I found that along the front seam of both main panels were slots where one could hide a small arsenal of throwing items, be they knives, grenade vials or the like. The cowl was loose, meant to be worn by an archer and had a stiffened peak that allowed my face to remain in shadow, should I use the thing in daylight, and yet remain out of my line of sight as I took a shot. This cloak was obviously more than a simple traveling cloak, meant to keep one warm during their trek. This cloak was a special gift, and I made a mental note to thank Duncan for it once we had a moment.

I found a small brush near the water basin, and set about running it through my hair, biting my lips to stop from crying out every time I hit a knot.

_This is your own fault, Felyca. You're the one who went weeks without washing it out before now. _

_ Oh, Well ex-ke-huse me for not brushing my hair during an Arl Howe invasion!_

_ Yeah, I'd so forgotten about that. Thanks for reminding me! _

_ Shut up, Felyca, there's no point in...OW!_

_Dang blasted knots_, I kept finding them!

After about five minutes of that self inflicted torture, I gave up. I could run my fingers through my hair without hitting a snag and that was good enough for now. I shook it out, redid the braids, looping one around behind my head as I walked out of the tent. The fact that the new cloak was also lined with soft grey wolf fur had completely skipped my mind until I stepped outside. While I was washing up, night had begun to fall and the temperature had dropped as well. A stiff breeze would blow past every few seconds, making my hair crackle and threaten to freeze. Calen was waiting for me as I left the tent and let out a happy yelp, bouncing around me as I walked towards the great cook fire. The men around me bowed in deference, something I should have picked up on quickly, but I'd grown accustomed to it in Castle Cousland. It didn't hit me until I heard someone behind me shout, "Lady Cousland!" I stopped in my tracks, and Calen must have picked up on my fear, because he dropped into a low stance and growled at the man. "I know I'm not mistaken. You are the daughter of Teyrn Bryce Cousland, are you not?" The conversations around me stopped as the Wardens swallowed what had been said. I heard the whispers from further into the crowds, stuff like 'Duncan recruited the noble!' and 'That's the Lady Cousland?' and it made my gut wrench. I turned around, and saw a man dressed in heavy chainmail, covered with a fur-lined cloak in Highever's colors. Clearly, this man came from my father's ranked men... but why didn't I recognize him? He laughed and crossed the few feet between us quickly, taking my slack hand in a firm grip. "I'm not surprised that you don't recognize me. My name is Ser Nolan, I served with your father in Maric's army. In fact, I was the one who introduced your mother to the teyrn."

_Ser Nolan... _

"Yes! I remember now! Mother spoke of you often." I shook his hand eagerly.

He glanced over my shoulder at the group behind me, then took a good long look at my face, "Where's your father, child? And your brother, Fergus?"

My breath hitched, and I removed my hand from his grasp. "I... I came here alone. Duncan recruited me to the Wardens." I replied, my fingers intertwining as I tried to think of something to tell him.

The knight folded his arms and nodded slowly, "I see. So your father actually let you be recruited to us Grey Wardens then?"

I nodded, "Well... sort of...yes, he did."

Nolan wrinkled his brow, "What do you mean, sort of?"

I took a deep breath, "It's a long story."

He chuckled, "I don't doubt it. Why don't you join me for supper tonight, and we can talk it over?"

I smiled, "Of course." He walked with me over to a private eating area near a small side fire. Once we were settled, a plate of food in my lap and a mug of mulled ale at my feet, he started with the questions. I watched his face as I explained what had happened, how Arl Howe had lied to my father, betrayed my mother and murdered my family. After I was finished, I waited for the deep sigh and multitude of apologies and condolences. Instead, the man leaned back against a tree trunk and shook his head, "I never thought I'd see the day when a Cousland would be afraid of their name." I was confused, but let him keep talking. I hadn't even mentioned that my new companions didn't know my full name, let alone my heritage... at least they hadn't until he'd practically shouted it across the camp. "You are wise to be careful with whom you speak it." I watched him carefully; he must have known I was having difficulty believing him, because he met my gaze head on. "I am not Arl Howe, my Lady, nor am I under his command. I was recruited to the Grey Wardens just after your father became Teyrn, and have only had minor correspondence with him since." He smiled gently and laid a hand on my knee. "He would be proud of you, my dear. Whenever he wrote about you and your brother, it was with the best of care." I bit my lip and looked away, nervously tucking my knee away from his grasp. I caught Daveth watching us closely, then smile at me.

I gave him a little wave, then returned to my dinner guest. "I don't suppose you've seen Fergus, since he's arrived?" I asked, trying to continue our conversation.

He nodded sadly, "Only briefly, although **he** did at least recognize me. We exchanged a few words before he had to head out.

He's been gone for three days." I nodded, swallowing a mouthful of potato. "I'd heard that a scouting party had been sent, I assumed it was his. Any word yet from them?"

Ser Nolan's eyes took on a painful look, "There have been a few stragglers from the main group, milady. A pair returned only yesterday... said they'd be set upon by darkspawn." I stopped mid chew and looked at him fearfully. My heart was racing in my ribcage.

_ Set upon by darkspawn... why don't I like that look?_

I swallowed hard, "What... what happened to them?"

He shook his head, sadly, "I don't know if you would wish to hear it." I simply stared at him, I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know. He blew out his breath and stood, "I know that look. I'd think it easier to show you." He offered his hand to me, and helped me to my feet. I didn't take my eyes from his face and let him lead me through the small eating groups to the ramp leading to the medical tent. The guard outside raised a hand to stop our progress, "Whoa! Warden or not, you'd best not enter, there's Blight sickness inside."

Nolan nodded, then jerked his head towards me, "The Lady Cousland wishes to see the Highever wounded." The guards eyes raked over me, and I instantly felt bad. Here I was dressed in a **gown** in an **army** camp, and I wanted to see wounded men?

He must have thought I was entirely crazy because he lifted an eyebrow and looked back at Nolan. "What are you trying to pull here, Nolan? You expect me to believe that this..." he waved at me, "is the Lady Cousland?" There was a shuffle inside the tent and a woman emerged, a woman I did recognize.

"Felyca?" she whispered, as though in shock.

I smiled at her, "Hello Mary."

"Oh am I glad to see you here, alive and well." Mary was the nurse that had been assigned to my brothers men before they'd left for Ostagar. Her brother, Matthias, was one of my brothers finest fighters. She came forward and wrapped me up in a tight hug. "When I heard the rumors, I feared the worst."

I returned the embrace and closed my eyes, "Yes... I..."

She was shaking her head, "Stop. You're here to see the men, aren't you?" I nodded, and she pulled me in away from Nolan and past the guard.

The light inside the tent was soft and fading fast. They'd soon have to go to lamplight to watch these poor souls. The tent was just large enough for twelve beds, six on each side creating a small aisle down the center for the nurses and healing mages. Out of those twelve beds, ten were being used; by men in assorted states of wellness and undress. I coughed at the thickness of lyrium dust in the air and Mary laughed softly, "Spend enough time in here and you'll get used to it."

I blinked rapidly and nodded, "I don't doubt it." She gripped my hand, leading me past the first few wounded to a large, barrel chested man lying in the far corner.

"Matthias?" she whispered, kneeling next to the bed and shaking his shoulder gently, "Matthias, you have a visitor." I knew this man. Although a bit on the young side, Fergus had often said that Matthias was one of the few that he would as willingly trust my life to as his own. Matthias shifted in his sleep, and slowly opened his eyes. "Mary? Mary, what is it?"

"You have a visitor, Matthias." she whispered, and I felt his gaze shift to me.

"Hello Matthias." I said, keeping my voice low.

His chest stopped moving as his breath caught in his throat, "My lady Cousland! I... I had no idea!" he tried to sit up, to bow to me, but I moved fast, sitting at his side and pressing him back onto the makeshift pillow.

"No need, soldier. You're wounded, so I hear. I came to see how things were going."

He smirked, painfully, and motioned to his bandaged chest. "I took an arrow to the chest, how do you think I'm doing?"

"Well then, you're in luck. We females love battle scars." He chuckled as Mary left us alone, walking over to a few other men. I glanced after her, then turned my attention back to Matthias. "Matthias, I need to ask you something."

He snorted, "Of that I have no doubt." he shifted slightly and was soon in a half seated position. His breathing was labored, then evened out as he stopped moving. "It's about Lord Fergus, I presume?" I nodded, waiting. He shook his head, "The last I saw of him, he was leading a small band of Highever's men further south and west. We'd camped outside the main army camp here, maybe a few hours walk, but that is all. He promised to return before the battle, and then we were attacked. But not by darkspawn, milady. These were ten of Arl Howes elite guards. Normally that wouldn't have been an issue, but we were caught off guard." He breathed slowly, then continued, "I watched as four of my companions were slaughtered before I took an arrow myself and blacked out."

I forced myself to smirk, "I know how that feels. I've had to recover from a few hits myself." I rubbed my shoulder in mock pain, "So... Fergus might still be alive, then?"

He raised his good shoulder then let it drop, "Maybe, but if we were set upon by Howes men..." his eyes clouded, "Why did this happen, milady? Why would the Arl betray your father like this?"

I shook my head, "I don't know, Matthias, but I plan on finding out."

He smirked, "Somehow I knew you would say that."

I patted the shoulder furthest from his wound, "Get some sleep. If all goes well, I'll be back to see you in the morning." I stopped by a few more of the injured men before I slipped outside and found myself again in Ser Nolan's company.

"I trust you've learned something?" I smiled gently and nodded. He put an arm around my shoulders and walked me back to the fire, "Here, let ol' Nolan tell you some stories about your father."

We'd been talking for another thirty minutes when Daveth finally approached us, "Well now. It seems I've been missing out on some interesting news."

I looked up at him sharply, then shrugged. "I was just catching up with an old friend."

Daveth cocked an eyebrow at me, and folded his arms, "That's not what I'm talking about, and I'm sure you know it."

I bit my lip and glanced at my dinning companion, "Ser Nolan, could you excuse me for a moment?" The knight nodded and stood as I did. I took a deep breath then looked Daveth in the eye, "Will you walk with me for a while? I'd like to see the overlook before it gets much later." There came a look to his eyes, then he nodded. He hesitated as he lifted his arm, then dropped it, probably thinking that it was inappropriate for a Grey Warden to 'escort' a fellow Warden anywhere. Gathering up my skirt, I began to walk to the overlook and Daveth had to hurry to catch up to me.

"The... the other Wardens are saying that your name is Cousland."

_Wow, you're blunt!_ "The other Wardens would be right."

"Is there a reason why it never came up before?"

_When? When we were slaying to many darkspawn to count? Or when I was so worried about my brother to really care what everyone else was doing?_

"You never asked?" He gave me a look, then stopped moving. We'd reached the overlook, and I tightened the cloak around my shoulders, protecting myself from the southern chill as the sun began to set. "My brother, Fergus, is out there right now." I started, my voice not much more than a whisper, "I can only hope that he's alive, and that Arl Howe didn't think of some way to kill him as well. Arl Howe was one of my father's trusted friends. They'd served together under King Maric during the rebellion and my father had no reason to doubt him." I snorted, "Save for the fact that the man didn't even have the courage to kill my father himself. He sent his soldiers to do the deed. But they didn't stop there, oh no, Howe's soldiers ripped through Highever Castle killing everyone in sight." I took a shuddering breath, "Including my seven year old nephew." Daveth's head tilted back slightly as he absorbed what I'd said. "As far as I know, Howe didn't take any prisoners that night, and I would be dead along everyone else in the castle..."

"If it wasn't for Duncan." he finished.

I didn't nod, there wasn't a need. I just looked out over the Wilds, praying as hard as ever that Fergus was alright. A stiff wind picked up, coming out of the Wilds and up over the walls as I prayed, playing with my hair and freezing the tears on my cheeks. I inhaled sharply and ducked my head. I didn't know I'd been crying... Maker, I thought I had finished with this. I brought a hand up to wipe my cheeks, and found myself crushed against smooth leather armor. I froze, probably from shock, and took stock of the situation. Daveth's left arm was wrapped around my neck, his hand resting on my shoulder. His other hand was on my waist, not really holding me, just resting there as his mouth set against my temple as he whispered, "There, there now. Don't start that. Your brother wouldn't want you crying like this, I'm sure." I took a ragged breath, trying to gather my wits.

_Andraste's blood, Felyca! Pull yourself together!_ I told myself, trying to breath normally. I hadn't been hugged in so long... I fidgeted a little, and brought a hand up to his breastplate, "Daveth... I..." I shook my head, pushing away from him just enough to look him in the eye. "Thank you." I whispered, forcing a smile.

He smirked, "There now... Was that so hard?"

There came a cough from behind us, and I stepped away from him quickly, straightening the front of my gown and wiping at my cheeks. Daveth's voice sounded angry, "Yes, Alistair?" I glanced over my shoulder at the newest warden, watching us as though we'd just committed a crime.

"Duncan's back, and I was sent to fetch you. The other Wardens wanted to see you before the Joining." I nodded, and turned to follow him.

* * *

"So you've returned from the Wilds. Have you been successful?" Duncan spoke as they approached the small campfire in front of his tent. He'd seen Felyca's armor in a pile in the tent when he'd returned, freshly washed and polished to a shine. He had been wondering what she was wearing in its place and the current dress she wore was certainly appropriate. At least for someone of her station. He wondered briefly where she'd gotten it, then brushed the thought aside, he could ask later if he wanted.

She folded her arms and smiled, "Yes, although it wasn't easy."

He chuckled, "Good, I've had the Circle mages preparing. With the blood you've retrieved we can begin the Joining immediately."

She nodded slowly, "I'm ready."

Duncan grinned again, "Excellent, you will need that courage to face what comes next."

_If the strength you showed on the trail here is any indication, Lady Cousland, you will do just fine._

"Courage? How much danger are we in?"

Duncan watched as Felyca rolled her eyes and took a slow even breath. "I will not lie, we Grey Wardens pay a heavy price to become what we are. Fate may decree that you pay your price **now** rather than later." She cocked an eyebrow, _My family lies dead in a castle miles away from here and you're talking about fate?_ She hid a snort and glanced at her feet, hidden within the skirt of her dress.

"I've come this far Duncan. I'm not about to turn back."

_ Not when all that waits for me is death and suffering at the hands of Rendon Howe._

_Or worse... his son._

Jory agreed, "Let's have it done."

Duncan nodded, obliging, "Then let us begin." he turned to Alistair, "Take them to the old temple." Felyca watched as Duncan walked away towards a group of mages.

"Come on. Best not to dawdle." Alistair said, walking off in the opposite direction. Felyca took another slow breath, then followed.

* * *

_"Yes... I remember that night." the mage spoke slowly, stroking his chin with one hand as the other rested on his hip. "You should have heard what Daveth said to me, when I greeted him." _

_ She raised an eyebrow, "That's what you were doing? Greeting us?" _

_ The mage shrugged, "I may not be a true god in your religion, but I won't have it said that I don't have manners."_

_ Felyca smirked and folded her arms, "I can see that." _

_ The mage glowered at her, "Mind your tongue, girl. Grey Warden or no, I still have enough power to make you wish you'd never been born." _

_ She snorted, "Never been born? For a mage you really can't think of a good comeback can you?." _

_ It was his turn to snort and look at her as though she were beyond teaching, "A mage? You think I'm a mage? Oh my dear girl, I am a GOD!" as he said the last, the ground around them shook as though an earthquake were rolling through the ground. She fell onto her backside and stared up at him. He chuckled, "But don't worry. I still wish to hear your tale... what happened, after the battle? I mean, clearly someone saved you for some purpose..." He offered her a hand to help her stand, and though it went against her better judgment, she took it._

_

* * *

_

Alistair watched as the two apostates worked on his fellow warden... there was just so much blood. She'd taken an arrow to the shoulder and another had nicked her neck as she'd fallen to the towers floor. The older woman, Morrigans' mother, was working feverishly to get another wound, one that had appeared on her leg, to stop bleeding. "No, Morrigan. Here." she pressed the young woman's hand against a thick bandage and hurried over to the fireplace, where Alistair lay. "I see you've awakened." she said, stirring the small pot on the fire. One good whiff told him that it was a lyrium potion, and he watched as she swallowed a ladle full. He grunted in response, not really sure if he was able to move. She smirked, "Well now, that's nothing new."

She was about to walk away again when he reached out and grabbed the hem of her clothes, "Please..." he rasped, his throat dry from lack of water, "Please, don't let her die." his eyes fell onto the bed where Morrigan was now tying that bandage to her leg and working on another injury, "She doesn't deserve..."

The older woman removed his hand from her clothes, "I can do a better job at that if you let me go." Alistair's hand fell back to his side, and he watched carefully as the woman went back to work.

_ Andraste... I haven't asked for a lot in my lifetime. Okay, we both know that's not true, but just hear me out. There's a woman lying on the bed in this hut... and she can't die. I'm not asking for me, but her. She can do so much in this world, Andraste. Please, Maker, let her live._

The older witch grabbed Morrigan's hand and forced her back as the body on the bed writhed in some unseen pain. Felyca's voice echoed through the hut as she let out a guttural howl, almost animal like, then fell limp again on the mattress.

_Andraste please... _

"There isn't anything more that we can do for her." The older witch was saying, pulling her daughter away from the bed as Felyca let out another wail and began to thrash. "Get those ropes." she pointed to a pile in the corner and Morrigan grabbed them up quickly, "Not too tight... just enough to hold her still... there." Felyca was straining against the ropes, probably injuring herself some more, but she wouldn't do worse damage than what had already been done. "Come," the witch said, grabbing Morrigans arm and hauling her to the door, "If she makes it through the night..." he didn't hear the rest of her sentence as she exited the hut, closing the door on him and Felyca.

_If she makes it through the night... Sweet Andraste, please!_

He rolled onto his side, and pulled himself towards the bed where Felyca now lay still, whimpering and tossing her head from side to side. On of her hands had slipped through the ropes and had fallen to the side of the bed. He struggled to his knees, and grasped that hand. Only hours ago, he'd watched as this woman had felled dozens of darkspawn on their way to the tower beacon...

_ She'd leapt over bodies and slid in puddles of blood on the floor. She'd saved his life against the ogre at the top of the tower, firing a single arrow through the monsters right eye. As it had reared back he'd jumped up, stabbing with his longsword as he done so, slicing open the creatures neck and riding it down as it died. The tower mage with them had been killed in that final battle, and as he'd lit the beacon, she'd knelt at the mans side. She'd taken a single arrow from her quiver, muttered a prayer, then snapped the arrow in half, placing it in the shape of an 'x' over the man's chest. Walking back over to her, he'd asked, "What are you doing." she'd held up a finger as she whispered another prayer and then closed the mages eyes, letting her fingers linger on the corpses forehead. She stayed that way for another moment, then she'd gotten up from her knees. _

_ "It's just something I do. I doubt it offends anyone... I just hate the idea of someone falling in battle and not having someone say one last prayer over their body. Despite it being prayed over later and burned..." she shuddered, "That is one thing I will never really understand about Ferelden." she said, looking at him now. Her face was splotched with blood, her armor covered in it. Her hands were slick with it, and she tried to wipe away some of the mess. He'd handed her that same handkerchief from before and she'd made a face, "Now I see where the mess is from." He'd chuckled, then gripped his sword. _

_ "We're not alone..." she'd glanced over her shoulder then, and let a soft gasp escape her lips. "REALLY not alone." he'd said as twenty darkspawn swarmed up the stairs and overwhelmed them. Arrows were flying and he'd watched in horror as she'd hit the ground._

He lowered his head to the mattress and let the tears flow. When he'd woken earlier, Morrigan had informed him of what had happened to the army... to Duncan. Duncan... it ate at him how he should have stood up to him.

_I should have been there._

He drew a shuddering breath and lifted his head to take a better look at her. Her face had been washed, and her armor removed to get at her injuries better, and he marveled at how a body so small could withstand so much. It was almost as though her entire body was covered in different bandages, all in different stages of effectiveness. The one at her throat was almost soaked through and wouldn't be of much use for very much longer. She let out another whimper as he looked her over, and he could just make out the words "Father... Mother..." He let his hand cover hers, almost holding it. "Easy girl, easy. It's me, Alistair... do you remember?" Her whimpers lessened, as though she was listening.

_Don't kid yourself, Alistair. She can't hear you anymore than Duncan can._

His gut clenched as he thought about his mentor... his savior. "Listen, if you can hear me... I ..." What was he going to say? That he needed her?

_Smooth, Alistair... really smooth. You need her now, do you?_

He shook his head, and tried again, "Felyca..." It felt a little weird to say her name like that. He hadn't even really known the woman for very long. And technically he should her calling her 'my lady'... but he just couldn't. Not yet anyway. Not until she was better.

_She has to... please Andraste, let her get better._

* * *

I felt like my head was going to explode. My blood was liquid fire! I opened my mouth to cry out, but it wasn't my voice that rang in my ears, "Pup... you need to get better pup." My heart stopped, "Father?"

Then another voice, "Listen to your father, my dear girl."

"Mother?"

_"Easy girl... easy...It's me. Alistair... do you, remember me?" _My mind raced, Alistair? Alistair... who was... wait. I did know who that was, he was the other Grey Warden. He fought with me in the tower... and shielded me from..._ "Felyca... Can you hear me?" _I tried to slow my breathing, my heart was racing. I turned my head towards the voice, but I couldn't move easily.

_"Don't, Felyca. You've been injured."_ Alistair's voice stopped. He sounded choked, as though he was trying to not cry. I tried to swallow, and found my throat to be parched. I groaned, and felt a hand on my shoulder. _"Felyca... Felyca, if you need anything... can you talk?"_ I heard him scoff, _"Brilliant, Alistair. Of course she can't talk, she hasn't had anything to drink." _I heard a shuffling sound, and then water being poured into something. Another few seconds passed and then a rough hewn surface was pressed against my lips and my mouth opened instinctively. _"That's a good girl... swallow that and we'll see if you can talk."_ I did swallow, and it felt so much better. My tongue wasn't the swollen mass that it felt like before, and I whetted my lips. _"Felyca?"_

I couldn't open my eyes to see him, "More."

He must have obeyed my request because I soon felt that same rough hewn cup against my lips. I swallowed greedily, I must have emptied the glass because he chuckled and I felt a hand against my forehead, _"I think that's all for now. You need your rest."_ the hand on my head slid down my arm, and my skin tingled. It wasn't really painful, but my nerves were on overload.

"Alistair..." I hissed.

_"I'm here, Felyca. I'm here."_ I forced my eyes open slightly, not a lot... just enough to make out his silhouette against the fire behind him. His head hung low against the bed... he looked so defeated. I moved my hand slightly, lifting it. My strength failed me and it rather harshly plopped onto his head. I let myself groan as he shifted to look at me. _"Felyca?" _I couldn't see his face clearly, but the hope in his voice made my chest hurt. My throat constricted and a wave of pain washed over me. I groaned and fell back asleep.


	6. Lothering

I slowly opened my eyes, taking in everything around me. I was in a rough cut bed, not exactly comfortable but it was certainly practical... wait. _That smell._ I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes. It smelled like moldy bread in a rotting pine box … the Wilds..? The Wilds! I sat up quickly, and instantly regretted it. My head spun and I put it in my hands to keep it from rolling onto the floor. "Ah, your eyes finally open. Mother shall be pleased."

I looked up, "Ugh... Wait. I remember you. You're the girl from the Wilds."

The robes she wore left little to the imagination and as she moved I could just think about how men must look at her. "I am Morrigan, lest you have forgotten. And we are in the Wilds, where I am tending your wounds." I looked myself over, I could just see the white scar of an arrow wound in my shoulder, and there were other smaller scars scattered across my torso and legs. "How does your memory fare? Do you remember mothers rescue?"

My brow furrowed, "Your mother... rescued me? We were surrounded by darkspawn! How could she possibly even get near me, let alone save me!"

Morrigan was just nodding, ignoring my outburst, "Mother managed to save you and your friend, though it was a close call."

This was just so much to process at once... wait did she say, "My friend? You mean Alistair?"

She sighed and crossed her arms, "The suspicious dimwitted one that was with you before? Yes. He is outside by the fire, with my mother, who wanted to see you when you awoke."

I put up my hand, her mother could wait, "Wait, please... Alistair... is he.. alright?"

She took a deep breath, almost as though she was stopping herself from saying something rude, or maybe crude. "He is... as you are. I suppose it would unkind to say that he is being childish."

I reached for my armor, sitting in a cleaned pile near the bed. Tightening the bracers around my wrists I gave her a look and asked, "Are there any survivors... besides us?" The leather on my left wrist was thicker and held a secret sheath for a small dagger, just a four inch blade that was attached to a mechanism. When activated the blade slid into palm of my hand. It wasn't much of a weapon, but Fergus had given it to me as a last line of defense against suitors who got too... friendly.

She shrugged, "Only stragglers that are long gone by now."

_Fergus... Andraste's knickers, please be one of those survivors. I don't think I could take it..._

I yanked open the door to the hut, setting my jaw. I refused to cry. I wouldn't cry... I couldn't. Not yet. Not until I had my brother to cling to.

"See? Here is your fellow Grey Warden. You worry too much young man." It was a voice I half recognized, coming from a woman that I knew I should. But that didn't matter right now, my focus was on the lone man standing at the edge of a small bog, his shoulders no longer held with pride and his back slumped as though he'd been truly defeated. Alistair's head turned at her voice, and when he saw me, he got a little of his spirit back. He looked as though his prayers had been answered.

_ Since when am I the answer to someone's prayers?_

"You... You're alive!" he choked out, taking a tentative step towards me. "I thought you were dead for sure!" His mood was so serious, it felt as though the very air around us was thick with pain and anguish.

I smirked, trying to lighten the mood, "It takes more than a few darkspawn to kill me." I was rather proud of the comment too, Fergus would have said something akin to it. It made me feel like it wasn't all hopeless.

But Alistair's half-cheerful look failed, and a deep rooted pain came to his eyes. "Duncan's dead. The Grey Wardens, even the king! They're all dead." My heart stopped

_The king... Now what are we going to do? Is everyone I know going to have to die?_

"This doesn't seem real. If it weren't for Morrigan's mother, we'd be dead on top of that tower." he muttered. He looked so terrible like that, utterly defeated and lost in the world. No knight of Ferelden deserved that. Before I could stop myself I stepped forward and put my hand on his gauntlet. I doubted he could feel me there, but... I couldn't **not **do something.

The woman behind us snorted, "Do not talk about me as though I'm not present lad."

Alistair turned to her, his face a mix of sorrow and anger, "I didn't mean... but what do we call you? You've never told us your name."

The woman folded her arms, "Names are pretty, but useless. Call me Flemeth, I suppose it will do."

Alistair looked taken aback, "**The** Flemeth? From the legends?" he glanced at me, "Daveth was right! You're a Witch of the Wilds, aren't you!"

Her face grew serious, "And what does that mean? I know a few spells and it has served you both well, has it not?" her eyes fell to me and my stomach knotted.

_What do you mean by that? _

"Why did you save us?" I asked. If I remembered my family history right, then this might be the very Flemeth whose murderous ways caused my family to come into power all those years ago...

_ She couldn't have spoken to spirits about... well, __**now**__, could she?_

I mean, how could she possibly have known... I was reading too much into it, I was sure. Calen was pressing his nose into my thigh, and he only did that when I got a certain look on my face. And I knew that because I'd caught myself looking like that in a mirror once.

She gave me a look like she could read my thoughts, and spoke quietly, "Well, we can't have all the Grey Wardens dying at once, someone must deal with these darkspawn. It had always been the Grey Wardens duty to unite the lands against the Blight... or did that change when I wasn't looking?"

That ruffled my feathers, "Of course not!" A Cousland has never shirked their duty and I wasn't about to set a precedent... leastwise now that I most likely was the only one left.

Alistair must have taken offense to her comment as well, "But we **were** fighting the darkspawn. The king had nearly defeated them! Why would Loghain do this?"

"Now that is a good question. Mens hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature." I nodded, that was true. The shadows in Howes heart had caused the deaths of my family.

"Truer than you might think...but Alistair's the real Grey Warden here... not me."

He turned on me, a glare in his eyes and a fierce look on his face, "All of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden are gone except for us! I've lost everyone! For the love of the Maker don't back out on me now!"

My breath quickened, and I straightened my spine. He would dare insinuate that I cared nothing about the dead? It was those very dead that I was thinking about, the dozens of bodies that now littered the floors of my family home. My temper flared and I let the pain of the last weeks pour out in my next words, "My name is Felyca Anne Cousland! My family was just murdered in their beds by Arl Rendon Howe of Amaranthine, and my only brother might still be alive out in those Wilds somewhere. Don't you dare talk to me as though I've no heart, Alistair. I know exactly what you're going through! But I cannot abandon my brother and besides all that, I'm a new recruit! I hardly know anything about the Grey Wardens and you're asking me to help you defeat a Blight? A Blight that has already claimed the lives of dozens of other Wardens? Helpless doesn't even begin to explain the situation."

He swallowed, the anger subsiding slightly. "What about everyone else? We can't let their deaths be in vain! Duncan was our leader, I am no more better at this than you, I've only been a Grey Warden myself for a few months. Felyca, I'm not asking you to be a legend, but I am asking that you help me avenge those of our fallen brothers."

_The fallen... Ser Gilmore, Mother Mallol, the guards at the castle, the servants... Ser Nolan, Mary, Matthias, Ser Jory, Daveth... all the other Grey Wardens... the King..._

I let my shoulders slump, and I dropped my head. "I can't do this on my own. We need to do something." he raised a hand to my shoulder, and I lifted my head to look in his eyes, "Help me with this and I swear to you, I will help you find your brother." I watched him closely, waiting for some sign that he was lying.

I relented, and nodded slowly, "We should contact the rest of the Grey Wardens."

"Cailan already contacted them. They'll come if they can but Loghain might have already taken steps to stop them. We need to assume they won't get here in time."

I shook my head, rubbing my temples, "What could Loghain hope to gain by betraying the king?"

He shrugged, "The throne? Still, I can't see how he'll get away with murder."

Flemeth snorted, "You speak as though he'd be the first king to get his throne that way. Do grow up, boy."

Alistair's lip curled in a snarl, "If Arl Eamon knew what he's done he'd never stand for it! The Landsmeet would never.. there would be civil war!"

I knew that name, my father had often spoken of him in a kindly manner. Had said that Eamon was a fair man, and was uncle to the king. "Arl Eamon... the Arl of Redcliffe?"

Alistair nodded, "I know him, he's a good man and respected in the Landsmeet. Of course!" He turned to me and grabbed my arms. I had to bite back a hiss, he'd latched onto a spot that was still sore, "We could go to Redcliffe and appeal to him for help!"

Flemeth chuckled, "Surely you have more at your disposal than old friends."

Alistair's face lit up, "Of course! The treaties!" He nearly shook me in his excitement, "Grey Wardens can demand help from dwarves, elves, mages and other places! They're obligated to help during a Blight!"

"I may be old, but dwarves, elves, mages, this Arl Eamon, sounds like an army to me..." Alistair released me, finally, and I took a step backwards, rubbing my arms absently. Maker, but did he have a strong grip. I was sure I would have bruises when I went to bed that night.

_ Bed..._ I stopped myself from laughing, _Bed isn't going to be an actual bed for a while..._

"So can we do this? Go to Redcliffe and these other places and build an army?" He was asking me, but I didn't know what to say. He looked so anxious, willing to believe that we could do this.

_Can't you? People have stood against Blights in the past and won... why not you and why not now?_

"Why not. Isn't' that what Grey Wardens do?" His face broke into a smile, a genuine smile that made his eyes light up and my heart beat a little faster. He really did have a nice smile.

"So are you set then? Ready to be Grey Wardens?"

I bit my lip and looked at her, "Frankly I'd be happy with staying alive."

Alistair nodded, "Hmm... Come to think of it, **that** would be nice."

Flemeth rolled her eyes, "Well don't expect me to do everything for you. There is one thing, however, that I _can_ offer you."

* * *

Leliana was a beautiful young woman, and she knew it... sort of. She'd spent most of her life in Orlais as a bard, trained in the arts of seduction and death but she'd given all that up. All the furs, silks and satins that had usually filled her closet for a simple life in Lothering. And she'd been happy here, it was a simple, quiet life and she reveled in it. And then, when she'd thought all was finally right with the world, her old life was left in the shadows and she could begin anew, the Maker pulled her entire world apart. She'd had a vision. It wasn't exactly clear, but she knew what she had to do. It was time to leave the Chantry, and follow the Maker's plan for her until the end. She knelt before the altar in the chapel one last time, and said her farewells to the sisters as she walked out the front door and made her way north. She was passing the tavern when she heard the horses behind her, and barely made it out of the way of a troop of infantry and cavalry as they made their way down the road. The leader held up his hand, and the entire crew stopped moving.

He glared down at her from his seat atop his horse, his face stern and eyes hateful. It made her stomach churn but she held her ground. Her feet planted to the earth, she stared up at him, letting his eyes search her soul. "Where is the tavern, girl?" She pointed to her right, unable to speak and he nodded to her. "Thank you." he turned in his seat to his second in command, and gave an order.

The woman lifted her head and shouted over the crowd of men, "Company Four, you're staying behind to watch for stragglers and tell them to head for Denerim. Also," she added as the group of ten men came forward, "Remember, all Grey Wardens are traitors. Any who have survived Ostagar's assault are to be arrested and tried for treason. In Denerim." Leliana's heart raced as the group approached the tavern, shoving people out of their way and making a great ruckus. She waited, shocked as she was, and watched as the troops passed her by, making their way through Lothering and past the groups of refugees that had set up camp down the road.

_'I don't believe it! Maker, I don't believe it!'_ she thought to herself as she carefully made her way into the tavern. She glanced at Danal, then nodded to him as he tilted his head at the soldiers. She knew what she would have to do. These men had just come from Ostagar, where she'd heard that the kings army had been obliterated by the darkspawn, including the Grey Warden troops that had joined him. She knew what she would need to do. After all, wasn't a beautiful singing voice one of the best distractions around?

* * *

We were maybe a half day's walk from Flemeth's hut, and he was silent. In fact he was silent the entire trip through the Wilds, and it was making me nervous. Four days later, after we'd reached Lothering, I had had enough. Morrigan wasn't interested in talking to me, and with Alistair withdrawn into his shell, I was on the verge of going insane. He was going to talk about it, whether he knew it or not.

He was sitting next to the fire, making designs in the dirt with a blackened stick when I sat down next to him, kicking dirt onto his drawing space. He glared up at me, and I raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you need?" he asked, exasperated.

I took a slow breath and asked, "Do you... want to talk about Duncan?"

He shook his head, "You don't have to do that. I know you didn't know him as long as I did."

_Defensive... _

I shook my head at him, "He was like a father to you, believe me, I understand how you feel."

He blew out his breath and stared into the fire, "I... I should have handled it better. Duncan had warned me right from the beginning that this might happen. Any of us could die in battle. I shouldn't have lost it, not when so much is riding on us, not with the Blight and everything. I'm sorry." He looked at me with such a sad face I couldn't help but wrap my arm around him and squeeze his shoulders.

"There's no need to apologize."

He pulled away slightly and half smiled, "I'd like to have a proper funeral for him. Maybe once this is done, if we're still alive. I don't think he had any family to speak of."

I poked his thigh; miraculously he wasn't clad in armor tonight. just a simple pair of breeches and a tunic. "He had you."

"I suppose he did. It probably sounds stupid, but part of me wishes I could have been with him... In the battle. I feel like I abandoned him."

I bit my lip and looked away. Little did he know that what he was saying was exactly how I felt about my parents, "It doesn't sound stupid at all. I understand completely."

"Of course I'd be dead then, wouldn't I? Not like that would make him any happier. Anyway, I think he came from Highever, or so he said. Maybe I'll go there sometime, see about putting something up in his honor. I don't know." he ran his hand through his hair, then looked at me, his eyes begging for something to hold onto, "Have you... ever had someone close to you die? I don't mean to pry, I'm just..."

I watched the flames for a second before I answered. "My entire family was murdered recently, right before I came to Ostagar. My father's best friend betrayed us, and slaughtered everything, everyone." My tone was dead, I didn't feel anything about it now. Maybe that meant I was healing?

He sucked in his breath, and closed his eyes, "Oh...uh, of course. How stupid of me to forget. Here I am going on and on about Duncan and you... I'm so sorry." I tired to smile it away, but couldn't. I just let my eyes glaze over as I watched a log fall deeper into the embers of the fire. "Thank you, really I mean it. It feels good to talk about it, at least a little."

I tore my gaze over to him, and nodded, "He was a friend of mine too."

"That's good to hear. I'm glad I'm not the only one who remembers him well."

* * *

I was back at Highever, somehow I was back at Highever and I didn't care. I was home! I could hear my mother calling out to me as I danced around the training salle with my brother. My father was leaning on the edge of the railing, watching us closely. It was perfect, it felt right. I knew all that other stuff about becoming a Grey Warden, the king dying and all that was a dream. Oriana came out of the barracks, dragging a wailing Oren behind her. He kept screaming something about his mother dying and Oriana just kept telling him it was a nightmare.

A nightmare.

A nightmare... the words rang in my head as I turned suddenly to see my father run through, the sword wielded by Arl Howe. "NO!" I screamed out, my feet frozen to the ground as my father fell to the earth, blood pouring through his fingers and pooling on the ground around him. I tried to get to him, but my mothers voice rang out, a strangled cry as I heard her die. I watched my brother fade out of sight and I was left alone... all alone in a world that hated what and who I was. I fell to my knees, gasping for air, ignoring the new chasm that was opening in the ground around me. But I couldn't ignore the screech, the deafening sound echoing in my ears. I looked up, my cheeks wet with tears, and saw a dragon. It reared it's head back and snapped it's teeth inches from my face.

I screamed and shoved myself away from the beast, only to find myself staring into the dying embers of a campfire with Alistair seated across it, watching me. "Bad dreams, huh?" I took several deep breaths, I couldn't stop shaking!

"It... it seemed so real!" my voice finally returned, and I looked at him in horror.

"Well it is real, sort of." he shifted in his seated position and watched the fire, "You see, part of being a Grey Warden is being able to hear the darkspawn. That's what your dream was, hearing them. The Archdemon, it... 'talks' to the horde, and we feel it just as they do. That's how we know this is really a Blight."

I swallowed, "The Archdemon... that was the dragon?" I let my eyes rove over the camp, this was just so much to take in. I slammed my fist against my bedroll, "Why didn't Duncan tell everyone that!"

Alistair gave an exasperated sigh, "He did. He told everyone he could feel the Archdemon's presence, but everyone just assumed he was guessing."

"These... dreams, are they going to happen often?"

"It takes a bit but eventually you'll be able to block them out. Some of the older Wardens said they could even understand the Archdemon a bit, but I sure can't. Anyhow, when I heard you thrashing around, I thought I should tell you; it was scary at first for me too." I looked at him carefully and bit my lip. He was sincere, I'd give him that.

_So you're not the only one who gets night terrors._

Night terrors... worse than a nightmare, yes that's definitely what these were going to be. "Thanks Alistair. I appreciate it."

"Anyway, you're up now. Time to break camp and get moving."


	7. Dalish Mages Tower

_ "We were heading toward Denerim, I wanted to find out as much as I could about what had happened in the outside world as we'd made our way through the Wilds. I'd heard hints of civil war and other ill things, but I wanted to be sure."_

_

* * *

_  
Needless to say we found the Dalish, or more accurately, they found us. I'd left Alistair with the dwarves at the edge of the forest, and had only taken Morrigan, Leliana and Sten with me. I wanted to do some scouting and there wasn't a need to have all of us stomping through here. Sten was our heavy lifter, I really only had him tag along to carry whatever meat we might find along the way. We'd just passed under a fallen tree when Mithra found us, and threatened us in the nicest way possible to turn back from whence we'd come.

I refused, "I've been looking for the Dalish actually." I told her, keeping my hands in front of me, non threatening. I'd been trained by some of the best trackers in Highever and perhaps all of Ferelden. Besides Mithra standing in front of me, I knew there were four more archers surrounding us, each possibly with an arrow trained on us. The last thing I wanted to do was anger the leader, this Mithra, and have us all die out here. However it worked though, Mithra believed me and led us to the keeper, Zathrian. I had no idea what a keeper was, but when he began talking to me, I was quick to figure it out. He was the clan leader... of sorts. I told him about the rest of my group waiting outside the forest, and asked if we could camp withing theirs for the time being, while we helped them with their little werewolf problem. Thankfully he agreed, motioning to a small clearing near a lake on the edge of camp where we might stay. It was close enough that we would be part of the camp, but otherwise we were to be as far from them as possible. I smirked and shook my head, "Zathrian, at some point you're going to have to trust me."

The keeper glared at me, "Trust is simply a shorter sword with which you can stab me in the back. Deal with Witherfang, and then we can talk about trust."

I smiled ruefully, then sent Morrigan to gather the rest of our people. "I should warn you, Zathrian, I have a pair of dwarves with me and a fellow Grey Warden. That won't be too much, will it?"

He looked me over, his elder eyes taking in my longbow, full arrow quiver and the multitude of daggers and throwing knives about my person, "I doubt they're nothing you can't handle."

_ In other words, keep an eye on your people and they won't bother me._

Morrigan was quick to return, shifting from her raven form into her human one just outside of camp, and led the group to where we were to stay. I nodded my head in deference to Zathrian and followed.

I simply wanted to know more about my traveling companions. Sten had brushed me off, giving me small unsatisfactory answers but I knew enough about qunari to leave him be. He'd come around eventually... maybe, hopefully. Leliana had told me little, more talking about her supposed vision than where she was from, although her thick accent was what gave her away. Our visionary was from Orlais. But Alistair... Alistair was proving to be very standoffish about the whole thing. The nerve of the man! He was making up some tale about being raised by dogs, albeit it was a funny story, but I wasn't buying it; he deserved punishment. "Or did I dream all of that," he said, a teasing grin on his face. "Funny the dreams you'll have when you sleep on the cold hard ground, isn't it? Are you having strange dreams?" I thought about it for a moment, then a wicked little idea popped in my head.

_Very well Alistair of the Grey Wardens. You don't want to answer me truthfully, then you'll have to consider this!_

"Only ones where we're making mad love in my tent." His jaw went slack as the rest of the camp went silent around us. I could just see Leliana out of the corner of my eye, the lute in her lap forgotten as she watched us. Sten had taken Calen with him on watch, but Morrigan was glaring at me like she wanted to strangle me. I held my smirk as I waited for his response.

It took him a second, then he shook his head and muttered, "I think... I just... lost my train of thought. Oh wait, there it is!" he smirked at me, almost as though he knew that I had been teasing him, and said, "Let's see... how do I explain this? I'm a bastard, and before you make any smart comments I mean the **fatherless** kind." My mouth snapped shut, comment forgotten as I watched his face. His eyes grew sad as he explained about his serving girl mother and how she had died when he was very young. About how the Arl had raised him, then sent him off to the Chantry at the behest of his wife.

"That's... that's not what I expected." I said, letting my eyes fall to the ground. We were sitting on a log near the small cook fire, well the main campfire if we really wanted to call it anything, and I didn't know what to say. "Alistair, do you know who your father is?"

He looked hard at me, judging my response, "I know who I was told was my father, yes. Anyway, it doesn't matter, he died even before my mother did I'm told."

I watched the flames lick at the sky as I thought about it. What would it have been like, to grow up only knowing who my father was but never _knowing_ him? A lump formed in my throat as I continued down that road... a road I'd thought I'd finished walking as we made our way out of the Wilds. "I can't... I can't imagine what that must have been like." I whispered, wrapping my arms around myself.

He glanced at me, and I could hear the confusion in his voice when he spoke next, "Why? You aren't starting to feel sorry for me are you?"

I shook my head, "I didn't mean... I was just trying to think of what it would be like, not knowing my father."

He took a deep breath and I felt him stand to walk away from me. "I'm sorry, Felyca. I shouldn't have mentioned it." he muttered.

"I shouldn't have brought it up."

I was washing my very stinky feet in the small creek when Alistair came and sat next to me, taking off his own boots in the process. We'd been fighting our way through the forest when I'd stepped in something that smelled worse than what came out of Calen's hind end, and had insisted that we wash at least some of the grime away before continuing. Once both his feet were in the water he looked at me, and started talking. "So I've been wondering something. I'd like to get your opinion on some of our traveling companions. Do you mind if I ask?"

I glanced behind us, to be sure that the very people he wished to discuss weren't eavesdropping. "Why do you want to know?"

He grinned wickedly, "I've got this nefarious plan to go around secretly to each of them and tell them all the nasty things you said. Then they'll mutiny and I shall become the group leader."

I raised an eyebrow at him, then smiled, "If you want to lead all you have to do is ask. I hardly know my way around Ferelden, and I could really use the vacation."

His face went white as he gasped, "What? Lead? ME! Oh no no no, no leading me. Bad things happen when I lead. We get lost, people die and the next thing you know I'm stranded somewhere, without any pants!" His eyes were wide and his hands moving as he spoke, he looked so comical I couldn't help but laugh.

"Without any pants, eh? That's a story I'll just have to hear sometime."

It was like I'd let the wind out of his sails, "Seriously though, I'm only curious. I've had more than enough time to make my own opinions, and I was just wondering if yours were the same."

I gave him my most evil smile, and whispered, "Only if you tell me yours as well."

His eyes took on this peculiar look and his voice dropped at least two octaves, making my skin erupt with goosebumps, "Just try and stop me."

* * *

"Ah! And here you are already." Zathrian knelt next to the corpse of a werewolf, as though his already knowing I would come was nothing. Personally, someone knowing other stuff about me without my telling them is not the best way for said person to get onto my good side. And on top of all that, he had been the one to curse these poor creatures in the first place, or at least, he cursed their ancestors.

"Zathrian, How did you get here? No wait, more importantly, what are you doing here?"

He stood and gave me a look, one that I was certain would have cowed most of his clan into submission. Me... not so much. "You have carved a safe path through the forest." he half shrugged, "Safe enough for me to follow anyhow."

Morrigan laughed beside me, and looked between us, "He wises to see if we have done his job for him." She put her hands on her hips and mocked him, "Isn't that why you are here now, sorcerer?"

Zathrian fumed, "Do not call me that, witch! I am Keeper of this clan, and have done what I must." He turned back to me, "Did you acquire the heart?" I watched him carefully before shaking my head, "So you wish to play games? I could sense you did not have it. Why are you leaving the ruin!"

"So you knew about the ruin?" Alistair asked.

Before Zathrian could answer I put my hand on Alistair's arm to calm him, "Why didn't you tell me about it?"

"There was no need. I knew you would find it and I didn't care to give a history lesson on something that had no bearing on your purpose here." He shook his head, "It would seem that the spirit has convinced you to act on her behalf. Might I inquire what she wants?"

"What is it you think she wants?" Alistair muttered, and my grip on his arm tightened.

"To survive I expect," Zathrian spat, his face showing open contempt, "That is the common nature among all such creatures, the will to survive." He turned to leave, then said over his shoulder, "You do understand that she actually _is_ Witherfang?"

I rolled my eyes, did the old man have to be so dramatic? "Yes, I'd thought as much." Sheesh, no one gave me credit for having brains, I swear. Just because I was a teyrn's daughter didn't mean that I didn't know how to cleave a man in two or hit a mark at a hundred yards. Or that I didn't know how to govern a people or make choices of my own. Good gravy, could I get a little credit here, please?

"She is the powerful spirit of this ancient forest, which I summoned long ago and bound to the body of the wolf. Her nature is that of the Forest itself: beautiful and terrible, serene and savage,maiden and beast. She is the Lady and Witherfang both, two side of the same being. The cures came first from her. Those she afflicted mirrored her own nature, becoming savage beast as well as human."

I shook my head, "No. The curse came first from you."

He bristled, "They attacked my clan and they are the same savages that they have ever been! They deserve to be wiped out, not defended!" I shook my head at him, taking a slow breath. He continued, "You were not there! You didn't see what they dis to my son. My daughter. You are not Dalish, you cannot understand." His eyes flashed, "Tell me, if you held the lifeless body of your daughter in your arms, wouldn't you wish the same fate onto those who harmed her?"

Images flashed through my memory; my father, lying in a pool of blood with my mother kneeling next to him, Oriana and Oren, cut down by cowards. Fergus, face down on the battlefield of Ostagar, arrows pinning his body to the frozen ground. I bit the inside of my cheek, fighting the urge to make a fist and agree, "Perhaps. But who is truly suffering now? The ones who harmed your children are long dead, and these people had nothing to do with that attack. They wanted you to end their curse, ease their suffering. They agree that those you first cursed deserved their fate, but these here today?"

"Even so, they are still the same worthless creatures that their ancestors were. They deserve nothing more than the misery they possess." he paced in front of me, thinking it over, "Fine. I fail to see what point there is in going to speak with them, but I will follow you. However, if it is only revenge which they wish, will you safeguard me from harm?"

I glanced at Alistair then Morrigan, who just shrugged. "I say we kill them all and be done with it." Alistair opened his mouth to speak, but I shook my head at him.

"I doubt it will come to that, Zathrian. But know that I will also defend them, if you raise your spells against them." He glowered at me, then led the way back down into the werewolf's lair.

* * *

_"The mages were next, I just wanted to make a clean circle through Ferelden. We'd bypass Denerim on our way to Lake Calenhad and we could stop in and stock up on news and supplies."  
_

_

* * *

_  
I only wanted to be alone that night. I didn't want to think about the elves, whom we had saved, or about the lost mages that were scrambling to get the Tower back in order. I didn't want to think about going to Redcliffe or heading down into Orzamar. I wanted to be alone and I didn't want to tell anyone why. We'd camped for the night, just inside the Bannorn hidden inside a grove of trees. I was making my way back from Bodahn's wagon, with my family shield and sword in hand. It had been a long time since I'd cleaned them, and tonight seemed like the perfect time. After all, it was my parents' wedding anniversary. I had just sat down, a bucket of water and a bar of cleanser soap in my hand when Leliana sat next to me. I shot her a look, but she said nothing. Just sat next to me and stared into the fire. I set the shield face up on my lap, letting my fingers trace the outline of the Highever laurel, before I set to cleaning to rough steel. I was beyond grateful that Bodahn had offered to store it for me, although I shouldn't have been surprised.

When I'd told him the story about my parents, and these were the last things I had of my family, he'd given me this soft look, then took the shield from my hands and laid it in his wagon, "Whenever you have need to see it, it will be right here." It must have been the fatherly part of him, because the merchant portion surely would have given me a paltry amount for it then sent me on my way.

The shield was clean, it glimmered in the firelight when I held it up for inspection, instinctively showing it to Leliana who smiled comfortingly. I bit my lip, then opened my mouth, "So what is it?" My voice made everyone around the fire jump a little, well, everyone but Zevran, but I doubted that anything could really rattle the assassin anyway. She looked at me, then lifted her lute into her lap as I set about cleaning the sword.

"I was just thinking about what happened to the elves, and I... I'm reminded of a song, sung to me many years ago. It was... when my mother died," My hands stopped moving, but I refused to look up, "This wise elven woman comforted me, and told me that we shouldn't fear death, or hate it. Death is just another beginning. One day, we must all shed our earthly bodies, to allow our spirits to fly free." I heard Wynne rustling in their shared tent behind us, and I just knew she would have something to say about how this wasn't of the Chantry's teachings, but I didn't care.

"Let our spirits fly free..."

"It's a beautiful sentiment I think, one that brings peace and hope to the grieving." I felt her turn towards me, and I finally glanced up at her. I could feel the tears welling in my eyes, the thick lump forming in my throat. She smiled sadly at me, "I overheard you talking to Bodahn about your family. About how you were betrayed, and forced to leave your parents behind to a certain death." I closed my eyes and clenched my jaw. When she said it that way it made **me** sound the traitor. She set a soft hand on my forearm, still extended in an unfinished stroke of the Cousland blade, "Please... let me sing it for you. Perhaps... perhaps it will help." I bit my lip, and nodded slowly, frozen to my seat as her voice rang across the camp.

I stared into the fire as she sang, watching the flames dance and sway, almost as though they could understand her words. As her song continued, the flames took on different shapes and forms, only to disappear as quickly as I would see them. My father's face smiling at me, my mother, her eyes bright as she hugged me, Oriana, Fergus playing with Oren... Ser Gilmore in his shining armor. I swallowed hard and shook my head. I couldn't think about them, I wouldn't let myself. I started in again on the sword, slow sweeps across the steel blade, until the steel glistened in the firelight, and Leliana's song was done. She sat there for a moment afterward, watching me carefully. I returned her stare, "Thank you, Leliana. It really was beautiful." Then I stood, returned the sword and shield to Bodahn, and went off to relieve Sten on his watch. The qunari's stoic silence was just what I needed to clear my head of memories. Memories I wanted to forget.

* * *

I was alone when Wynne caught up with me. I'd taken point to look out for any incoming trouble, and was a ways ahead of the rest of our little band, just the way I had started to prefer it. "Felyca, may I speak with you?" I glanced at her, a soft smile ready for the elderly woman.

"Of course, what's on your mind?"

"How did you become a Grey Warden?" I felt my eyes widen and I stared ahead of us for a long time, letting my fingers dance along the upper limb of Falon'Dins Reach. It was a name that Lanaya, the new keeper of the elves had given it, and I liked it. Especially after she told me of the legend behind the name. "Arl Howe betrayed my father and massacred my family. Duncan rescued me at the last moment, and brought me to Ostagar."

Her face wrinkled in confusion, "Arl Rendon Howe? Why would he do such a thing to you?"

I shrugged, "Jealousy perhaps? He's always been a friend of us Couslands."

I could tell she was shocked, and it took her a moment to gather her thoughts before she asked, "You... you are the last of the Couslands? I had no idea, my lady."

I looked harshly at her, "I'm not the last. Until I see a body, my elder brother, Fergus, is still alive somewhere and I have every intention of finding him. But please," I looked around us as I pulled her closer to me, my voice dropping to a whisper, "I'd rather you just call me Felyca or Warden. We're already under enough strain with Alistair and I being Grey Wardens where we are not welcome, I'd rather not add to that trouble by announcing that I escaped Howes treachery."

She nodded, "Of course, Felyca. I understand." she fell silent for a while longer. I held up my fist, the signal that we were going to rest for a while and walked over to a small stream nearby. I was kneeling to fill up my waterskin when she came to talk to me again. "So... I'm assuming that you also had a dream you had to get out of with the Sloth Demon." I nodded, biting my tongue as Alistair knelt next to me to fill his own waterskin. "I was wondering, what did you see?" I glanced over at Alistair who was trying not to look like he was listening in.

I turned back to Wynne, "Why do you want to know?"

The mage shrugged, "You were privy to some of our more intimate thoughts. I was simply curious as to what the demon chose for you."

I took a deep breath and looked back at Alistair, he'd turned his back to us but I knew his attention was on us fully. "I saw Duncan... at Weisshaupt." I watched his shoulders tighten, and I knew he was forcing himself not to turn around.

Wynne nodded behind me, "I see. I wonder why you didn't see your parents."

I stood quickly, suddenly angry. She'd picked at a wound freshly healed and now it was starting to bleed again. We walked for another four hours before I called for camp. I was tired and hurting, and it was starting to get dark around us. We found a secluded alcove in one of the hillsides and split off to be on our own. I was sitting in front of a small fire I'd made for myself, Calen was sitting next to me half asleep himself when Alistair walked over, plunking down on a log near me and waiting. I looked up at him, "I... I want to apologize for what I said earlier. I should have told you about the Fade... I didn't want to hurt you. I know Duncan meant a lot to you and I... You'd just gotten over it, or so it looked to me. The last thing I wanted to do was open old wounds." He nodded, not looking at me.

Instead he opened a small sack at his hip and removed one of the most beautiful roses I'd ever seen. It's petals were of the deepest red and looked almost like a rich cut of velvet. "Here, look at this. Do you know what this is?" He placed the rose in my hand and waited.

I looked at it more closely, then almost laughed, "You're latest weapon of choice?"

He laughed, "Yes! That's right! Watch as I thrash our enemies with the mighty power of floral arrangements. Feel my thorns darkspawn, I will over power you with my rosy scent." I did laugh then, and he smiled. _I can get used to that smile..._ "Or, you know, it could just be a rose. I know it's a pretty dull comparison." I shook my head, letting my fingers run over the petals.

_ Soft, just like velvet._

"I don't know. Sentiment can be a pretty powerful weapon."

He chuckled, "Is it _that_ easy to see right through me? I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I picked it in Lothering; I remember thinking 'How can something so beautiful exist in a place with so much despair and ugliness.' I probably should have left it alone, but I couldn't. The darkspawn would come and their taint would just destroy it. So I've had it ever since."

I twisted in my seat, about to hand it back, "And what do you intend to do with it?"

His hand snapped out, faster than I ever remember seeing before with his sword, and his fingers closed around my wrist, holding it still. Then he gently pushed my hand back towards my chest. "I thought I might... give it to you, actually." he looked into my eyes, and I could see that he really meant what he was saying. "In a lot of ways, I think the same thing, when I look at you."

I was stunned and my mouth wasn't working properly. I couldn't really think straight and it made me nervous, so I said the first thing that came to mind, "You think of me as a gentle flower?"

He laughed, a full laugh that made his head fall back, "A gentle flower? No..." he shook his head, his shoulders still shook a little as he tried not to laugh in my face, "I don't know if I'd put it quite that way." He instantly sobered, watching me as I held the rose in my lap, my fingers playing with the petals. "I guess it's a bit silly isn't it? I just thought, here I am doing all this complaining, and you haven't exactly had a good time of it yourself. You've had none of the good experiences of being a Grey Warden since your Joining. Not a word of thanks or congratulations. It's been all death and fighting and tragedy. And on top of all that, you haven't even really had the chance to mourn your family." My head snapped up and I looked at him, I could feel the tears starting to form in my eyes. He brought a hand up and cupped my chin, lightly, but I could still feel his fingers just brushing my skin, "I thought maybe I could say something. Tell you what a rare and wonderful thing you are to find amidst all this... darkness." I couldn't speak. My heart was racing and my mind was blank.

_ Damn you Fergus! Curse you for saying that there's one man out there who can handle me!_

My mind cleared, and one thought cropped up, "So... are we married now?" I was half joking. Only half.

He smiled, "Ha! You won't land me that easily woman; I know I'm quite the prize after all." He rubbed the back of his neck, releasing my chin, "I guess it was, uh, just a stupid impulse. I don't know... was it the wrong one?"

I smiled at him, holding the rose tight to my chest, "No... absolutely not. Thank you, Alistair. Thank you so much."

He cleared his throat, "I'm glad you like it. Now if we could get past this awkward, embarrassing stage and move right to the steamy bits I'd appreciate it."

I giggled, and set the rose on the log beside me, "Alright, off with the armor then."

He flushed then from his neck to the top of his head, I could see it reaching past his hairline. "Ah! Bluff called! Damn, she saw right through me."

I leaned forward a little bit, letting my fingers dance on his forearm, "Why must it be a bluff?"

_ Makers breath Felyca what are you doing! You're flirting with a TEMPLAR! You most certainly are your father's daughter._

"Well," he glanced around us, as though he wanted to be absolutely sure we were alone, "it doesn't have to be a bluff. I suppose we are in camp... and the tent is right there..."

I grinned mischievously, "No time like the present then!" He laughed nervously and stood up quickly. I could feel the heat from his body leaving and I was suddenly very cold.

Very, very cold.

"I'll, uh, be standing over there." He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than me, and I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to warm back up. "At least until the blushing stops." I waited until he was on the other side of Wynne and Leliana's tent, which was set up between his and mine, before I turned back to the rose and took a deep sniff. _How did he know?_ I asked myself, crawling into my tent and laying on my back, the rose tucked close to my heart.

_How did he know that rose was my mother's favorite scent?_


	8. Meanwhile 1

_ The mage took a deep breath and blew it out through his nostrils. Even though she wasn't standing in front of him, Felyca had to fight to maintain her footing, and heard her friends shout as they flew backwards. She watched amazed as her own corporeal body was flung from its place and winced when she heard the cracking of her own ribs as it hit the containment wall. "Ugh, that's gonna hurt when I wake up." She sucked in her breath as the greatwsord she'd used to kill the Archdemon came hurling next to her, barely missing cutting her in half as it fell from the roof and tumbled end over end in the air. "That's gonna hurt someone." she whispered, bracing her hands against the parapet and watched as the armies beneath her started to cheer._

_ The mage shook his head, then glanced over his shoulder at her waiting companions, "It seems your friends have recovered from their shock."_

_

* * *

_  
Sten of the Beresaad got up from his back, shaking his head roughly to clear it of the fog. As clearly as he could recall, the Warden had run at the Archdemon, screaming a war cry. He'd watched her sink the weapon, a blade almost as large as herself, into the skull of the beast and saw the brilliant white flash as they all four were thrown back off their feet. The mage on his right was slowly regaining herself, while the dwarf on his left was already on his feet, battleaxe swinging wide at the remaining Hurlocks and Genlocks that were now running in terror from the roof. "Ha! Oghren wins again!" came his cry as Sten gathered his own weapon, a greatsword the forge-master had called Starfang, and decapitated a Shriek as it tried to slink past.

"Wynne!" he shouted, the older woman was finally getting to her knees, her face paler than seemed normal and the wrinkles in her skin more pronounced, "See to the Warden!" he shouted, letting Starfang taste the foul blood of a Hurlock commander as it came at the two of them. As the darkspawn body fell away, he offered his hand to her and hefted her easily. "GO!" he nearly threw her at the crumpled body of their leader as he spun to face another fleeing menace.

Wynne stumbled forward, her silverite staff clicking on the stones as she leaned on it for support. They'd all been told about the sacrifice... Felyca had explained why only a Grey Warden could kill the Archdemon, and how they might come out the other side of this battle minus their leader... their friend. Felyca was face down against the wall, her body contorted unnaturally in a heap at the foot of the wall. "No... not another." Wynne whispered, her heart starting to race she knelt and tried to roll the heavy girl over. _Please..._ she asked the spirit inside her, _Just a bit more strength... Help me roll her over._ She felt a warmth fill her and soon the armor clad woman was face up. Wynne bit her lip as she surveyed the injuries; Felyca's face was bloodied, it appeared as though her nose had been broken upon landing against the wall and her lower lip was split. With a practiced eye Wynne started to remove the younger woman's armor, and found her hands to be shaking. Wynne pulled her hands back and clenched them into fists. Now was not the time to be afraid... no, not now. She could be scared later, once Felyca's armor was removed and she could really see what damage had been done.

"Here, Wynne. Let me." It was Oghren, kneeling by the enchanters side and helping loosen the ties that held the breastplate together. Wynne hefted the drakeskin leather and gasped in horror as Oghren let out a low whistle. The leather crumpled to pieces in her hands. He looked at Wynne and she could see the fight of emotions on his face. "She's survived worse." he muttered, turning his attention back to his friend... his sister. Wynne nodded, and set about her work.

They could all see the pillar of light that had erupted from the top of Fort Drakon, cutting through the incoming twilight, but only one of them could feel it.

Alistair Theirin glanced at his fighting companions and then turned back to watch as the darkspawn around him fled the city. It was a brilliant white against the darkened sky, and he could just bet he knew why.

_Felyca, my love. I hope you know what you're doing._

Bann Teagan came hurrying over to him, "Alistair, is that...?"

Alistair glanced at him, and ignored the question, "Gather what soldiers are left to hold the front gate. Tell them to kill every darkspawn that's trying to get out of the city. Send a messenger to warn the Legion of the Dead that they're coming back. Give them nowhere to run." His tone had changed as he spoke, from his usual hopeful lilt to something darker. Teagan was having trouble accepting this darker, angrier Alistair until the man who would be king turned to grip his shoulder, "Please, Teagan. I can't do it... I've other things I _have_ to do." Teagan knew the look in Alistair's eyes. He'd seen it before with Eamon and Isolde. The Bann of Rainesfere nodded curtly, and turned away, barking orders to the men as they cut down every thing that crossed their path. Arl Eamon watched as the younger man spoke with Teagan, then hurried over to speak with the elf and dwarven leaders. Eamon had been overseeing the setting up of healers tents and a command center for the clearing of the city, but with the refugees of Denerim coming to the gates, it was turning into a small city within the city. He watched as Alistair clapped a dwarf on the shoulder, then walked away. The dwarf called out to his comrades and all those that Eamon could see formed a tight line across the far gate, where the majority of the darkspawn were starting to emerge. Not one made it through that line. Alistair was beginning to make his way towards the upper markets, the quickest way to get to Fort Drakon, when he heard a yelp behind him. Felyca had left her faithful war hound, Calen, behind. He'd overheard her command that Calen protect Alistair as he had her. It had chafed his ego when she'd said it, but during the battle the dog had proven himself invaluable, and Alistair was silently grateful that she'd left the animal. His heart leapt into his throat when he heard Calen yelp again and it was enough to make him stop.

_Maker... has she returned already? Could she...?_

"Ser! Ser the group from the Fort is returning!" Both men turned to face the market gates, and Alistair's heart began to race as Wynne, then Oghren emerged. Wynne looked as though she'd been through hell and back, while Oghren appeared to be carrying something, a lot of somethings, actually. Alistair studied the pile carefully, and recognized the glint of Felyca's armor.

_Why isn't she wearing that? Where is Felyca?_

Alistair took a tentative step forward, then another and another and soon he was running past the small group of soldiers. He grabbed Wynne by the shoulders and growled in her face, "Where is she?" The elderly mage's face was pale, he could tell she'd just done a great deal of magic. "Wynne! Where is Felyca?" He could hear the shuffling of people behind him as Teagan pushed his way through the crowd, and then the heavy clunk of metal clad feet on rough cut stone. Alistair looked past Wynne to the gate, and felt his lungs collapse. Standing before the crowd was Sten, the towering qunari wore the heavy plate that Felyca had had made specifically for him, was cradling what looked like an infant in his arms. But Alistair knew it wasn't a child, he _knew_ it.

He knew that hair cascading over the giants arm, knew the perfect shape of those legs that hung too limply for his comfort; and he also knew that the form in Sten's arms was way too still for her own good. "Is she..." he released Wynne, his feet unwillingly carrying him closer to Sten. "Tell me she isn't..." he couldn't bring himself to say it. After all the death and tragedy and heartache they'd gone through to get here, she wouldn't... **die** would she?

After what he'd done for her last night!

She wouldn't... His arms wrapped around her small frame, removing her from Sten's tight grip and tucking her into his chest. He fell to his knees, decorum be damned, this was the woman he loved! He brought his hand up to her cheek and let his thumb caress her lips. She was so cold! He couldn't believe how chilled she was to his touch, her face was ashen and her lips were turning blue. His hand lowered, letting his fingers stroke her neck, searching for a pulse, any hint of life. "Felyca..." his voice cracked. The body in his arms inhaled sharply, like she always did before her eyes opened in the morning and she would smile at him.

_Why won't her eyes open!_

She'd fixed the broken nose, the split lip and stitched together the ribs as best she could before she ran out of lyrium. Miraculously, no internal organs had been punctured, or perhaps Felyca really would be dead in Alistair's arms. As it was, the girl was barely breathing and her heart was only working from sheer strength of will. For whatever reason, Felyca Cousland refused to die. "I did everything I knew how... everything I could, Alistair. She lives, but only just. We need to take her to a healers tent. She needs to be in a bed where others who know more can help her." He was nodding his agreement, but he wasn't moving.

Alistair knew what Wynne was saying was true, that without proper lyrium reserves no one would be able to save her, but he didn't want to move. Not just yet, because he also knew that once Felyca was out of his sight, he wouldn't be able to care for her. He wanted nothing more than to be able to sit by her side until she opened those gray eyes and smiled at him again. But he was king now, and kings, whether they liked it or not, couldn't just sit around waiting for something to happen. The people of Ferelden needed a leader, they needed a protector as the Darkspawn fled back to the Deep Roads.

But he needed _**her**_.

He felt a leather clad hand rest on his shoulder, and looked up into the face of Zevran. The Antivan was battling his own emotions as he motioned his head towards the small encampment being set up, "Come. Wynne is right, we need to get her better healing and quickly." Alistair shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, letting Zevran balance him as he lifted himself to his feet. The first person they encountered on their way was the First Enchanter, Irving.

"I just heard. Hurry, I've set the younger apprentices to work on preparing the lyrium. Our best healers are being pulled to work on her right away." Alistair heard all of it, but he wasn't really listening. All that mattered to him was the woman in his arms, barely alive. She had to live... she just had to!

They entered the tent and all activity inside stopped as the future King of Ferelden walked inside, the Grey Warden in his arms and silent tears rolling down his face. He carried her to the first available cot and gingerly laid her on it, kneeling beside her once more. She looked so small in here, her face even more pale against the white sheets and pillows. The first mage to come near them was a man, about Alistair's age, and he started working immediately. The mages hand's moved slowly over her face, just above her skin so as not to infuse too much magic into her at once. He was muttering to himself as he did so, and it didn't take Alistair long to recognize it as a list of injuries. "Concussion, recently healed broken nose... needs further work to set right, bruising around eyes and mouth... dislocated shoulder, cracked collar bone, four broken ribs remainder healed hastily... no internal injuries..." the mage's face contorted in confusion, and he called over his shoulder, "Mira! Mira, come here!" A younger woman walked over to them quickly, and Alistair knew it was bad. Mages didn't call for help unless there was something terribly wrong. The first mage showed her where he was working, and had her put her hands over his, "Tell me that's what I think it is." he muttered, glancing up as the tent flap was brushed aside.

"Alistair, you're needed out here."

He opened his mouth to protest, but Zevran put his hand on his shoulder, "I'll stay with her, and you'll get a full update." Alistair hesitated a moment longer, then strong hands held his arms and practically hauled him out of the tent. Alistair watched as Calen forced his way into the tent, his nose pressing against Felyca's deathly still hand. His heart ached as the faithful hound sat back on his haunches and let out a low whine. One of the mages were about to shoo him out when Zevran caught his arm, "The dog stays." There was just enough venom in his voice that the mage let the assassin be and went about his work.

Once outside, Alistair shook himself free from Sten's grip and adjusted his armor to sit better on his shoulders, "Alright, I'm here. What is it?" He turned around slightly and found himself enveloped in a tearful hug.

"Oh Alistair. I just heard..." It was Leliana, her arms clasped around his neck and pulling him close. "I can't imagine what you're going through. Is she..." she pulled back enough to look at him better, "She didn't... die, did she? She'll live?" her face was covered in the ash and soot from the hundreds of fires burning throughout the city. He looked down between them, unsure of what to say. "Oh no... No, no, no!" she gasped, taking several steps away from him and making him look at her again. She'd brought her hands up over her mouth and was shaking her head furiously, "Alistair..." He set his jaw and looked away, determined to not show any more emotion today.

Sten crossed his arms across his chest and took a slow breath, "The mage said she would live."

Leliana moved her eyes to look at him square, "Sten, you're right. Wynne wouldn't be wrong about that..." Sten nodded once, and walked away, motioning to Shale and Oghren to help him put out some of those fires. Wynne was grabbed by an apprentice and forced to sit down, 'just for a moment, catch your breath. You've done enough for the moment.' the young girl was saying, brushing a cool cloth across Wynne's face. Leliana watched Alistair, waiting for his command, but he had none to give. He looked so much like a lost little boy, that she found it hard to stop herself from pulling him into another tight hug.

So lost was she in her appraisal of him that she jumped when he finally spoke, "I'd better find Teagan... help coordinate... things."

Leliana nodded, and gripped his gauntlet, "I'll relieve Zevran soon and send him to update you."

He shook his head, "No, I... I don't want to be alone right now, Leliana. I need... something. Someone."

Her brow wrinkled, "I'll stay with you if you wish."

He shook his head and she could see that he was getting angry... but not with her. "Find Morrigan. If she is anywhere in the city I want her brought to me, kicking and screaming if need be. I have some very important questions for her." Leliana was shocked. She'd seen Alistair angry before, usually only in battle but this... this was a new development.

And she wasn't sure if she liked this version. "M...Morrigan? Alistair are you..."

He fixed her with an icy stare and she swallowed hard. "The vile woman promised her that neither of us would die if I... find her, find her and bring her to me. I have a few choice words for the wicked apostate." As she skittered away, searching for the 'wicked apostate', Leliana couldn't help but feel a little sorry for the 'vile woman'. Maybe she would search for a while, then go back and say that Morrigan couldn't be found... but then his rage might fall back on herself, and Leliana didn't want that.

_It'll pass. He's just worried about Felyca and wants to know where everyone is... Andraste let me be right about that... for once._

_

* * *

They'd followed her body as Sten carried it through the now empty fort. She'd seen the shock on everyone's faces as he'd walked past. Sten had refused to let anyone near her body, muttering under his breath, but Felyca heard it loud and clear, "Kadan must be taken to the King." his voice was strained. He repeated it so many times, it began to sound like a mantra rather than an excuse for the burly qunari to keep her close for just a moment longer._

_Then they'd met with the rest of the group, and she'd gasped in pain. She hurried forward, kneeling in front of Alistair as he held her body, "Alistair, Alistair my love, I'm right here... Darling I'm here!" She reached out for him, but her hands weren't able touch him. Felyca looked up at the mage, Old God, whatever he wanted to call himself, "Why can't he hear me?" He didn't answer her, just watched with blatant curiosity as Alistair carried the body away, and that infuriated her. She growled low in her throat and forced herself to her feet. Ignoring her earlier caution, she gripped his robes and forced him to to at her, "You said you were a god, then let him hear me! Let me tell him I'm alive!"_

_The mage looked at her, confused, "__**This**__ is... Alistair? __**He's **__the other Grey Warden that traveled with you?" _

_ Felyca nodded, "Let me speak with him." _

_ He raised an eyebrow at her and pulled her fists from his clothes. "Why should I?" _

_ Felyca swallowed back her retort and watched him carefully. So far he'd been civil, but she knew that one wrong word move or insinuation, and her neck could be broken and she wouldn't return from __**this**__ trip into the Fade. "Because if it wasn't for me, you would be dead." she hissed, her hands clenching at her sides. _

_ The mage turned around, and crossed his arms, looking at her carefully, "Tell me about this Alistair and I will answer your questions."_


	9. Redcliffe Return to Ostagar

_"The rumors coming out of Redcliffe were rather unsettling. Alistair was getting anxious about the whole thing. I watched him one night, pacing outside of camp. He was talking to himself, saying something about not knowing what to do. Whether or not he should tell someone something."_

* * *

We were just outside of Redcliffe, in fact you could see the castle over the rise and the small village below. I was admiring the view when Alistair came over to me. "Look, can we talk for a moment? I need to tell you something I probably should have told you earlier." I waved the others forward; you learn certain things about people when they're all you see and interact with for six months straight and one thing I'd learned about Alistair was to let him talk things out, especially when he looked like he did now.

"What's on your mind?"

He was nervous, I could see it. Practically smell it and when he rubbed the back of his neck, I knew it wouldn't be something I wouldn't like. "Well..." he glanced at the castle, then turned back to me, "You remember when I told you that Arl Eamon raised me right? That my mother was a serving girl at the castle and he took me in?" I was nodding as he spoke and crossed my arms.

_What are you getting at?_

He took a shaky breath, "Well the reason he did that is because, well because my father was King Maric, which made Cailan my..."

"Half brother." I breathed.

He smiled apologetically and shrugged, "I suppose." It was hitting me all at once. I didn't know if I wanted to be angry at him for not telling me or elated that the man I thought I was falling in love with was of royal blood.

_Maker's breath Felyca, are you really that shallow?_

I looked up at him, and saw the fear on his face. He was waiting for my response, and my hesitation certainly wasn't making things any easier, I was sure. I shook my head, "So.. you're not just a bastard but a **royal** bastard?"

I'm certain he caught the double meaning to my words, but he just laughed gratefully. "Ha! I guess it does at that! I should use that line more often." He sighed and turned away from me slightly, "I would have told you, but it never really meant anything to me. I was 'inconvenient', a possible threat to Cailan's rule so they kept me secret. I've never talked about it to anyone. Anyone who knew either resented me for it or they coddled me, even _Duncan_ kept me out of the fighting because of it. I didn't want you to know as long as possible, I'm sorry."

_Didn't want me to know! You didn't think that this might be in the slightest way important? Or even put us in even more danger! My __**own**__ name is enough to get us killed, and now you're telling me you're the bastard prince that every girl dreams about coming into her life and sweeping her off her feet! I can't believe you were this stupid!_

Then it hit me... "Does Loghain know?"

His eyes widened, "Why not? He was Maric's best friend. I don't know if that means anything though... I certainly never considered the idea that it might ever be very important."

I glanced behind him to see the group waiting for us, "I think I understand."

_You've had to hide yourself, Felyca. You can't get mad at him for not telling you his._

"Ah good, I'm glad. It's not like I got special treatment for it anyhow. At any rate, that's it, that's what I had to tell you, I thought you should know about it."

I nodded, biting my lip as I processed what this could mean for our little band. "Are you sure? You aren't hiding anything else?"

I half expected him to turn into a dancing bear, but he just shrugged, "Other than my unholy love of fine cheeses and a minor obsession with my hair, no, that's it. Just the prince thing." I nodded, thinking it over even more. Now that I looked at him I could see the resemblance between him and Cailan. I should have picked up on it sooner; they held that same air of confidence about themselves, even if Alistair refused to acknowledge it, the same cut of their jaw, the way the skin wrinkled around their eyes. Even their hair color was similar, although Alistair's was a touch darker, and had some streaks of red through it.

"So you're a prince? Huh, somehow I find that very... thrilling."

He looked at me in surprise, "Did I just learn the one damn decent thing about my birthright? I think I did!" He glanced towards our group, "I have no illusions about my status, however. It's always been made very clear that I am a commoner, and now a Grey Warden, and in no way in line for the throne. And that's... fine, by me. No if there's an heir to be found it's Arl Eamon himself. He's not of royal blood but he is Cailan's uncle and more importantly very popular with the people. Although, if he's really as sick as we've heard... oh no. I don't want to think about that. I really don't." We stopped just short of our group, I was sure they were straining to hear what we were discussing. "So there you have it. Now can we move on, and I'll just pretend you still think I'm some nobody who was too lucky to die with the rest of the Grey Wardens." I watched him for a second, and saw a flash in his eyes.

I'd seen that look before, on Fergus' face whenever he talked about Oriana. "That's not really what you think, is it?"

He rolled his eyes and sighed heavily, "Well... no. What I really think is that I was lucky enough to survive with you." I watched him walk towards the stone bridge ahead of us, my mind reeling as it processed what he'd just told me.

* * *

_Undead. Undead are what are attacking the village. And to think, you thought you'd seen it all at Soldiers Peak! _

_ Great Felyca, you've really gotten yourself into trouble this time! You had to suggest setting oil aflame... _

_ Watch out, flying head coming right at you!_

_ Ugh... why do they have to make that noise, like a growling stomach with a mouth... beautiful, you couldn't think of something more, eloquent to describe them? _

_ Ouch, there goes an arm!_

_ Shoot them damn you! Shoot them!_

_ Right, aim lower next time._

_

* * *

_

Bann Teagan Guerrin watched in a sense of awe as the Grey Warden Felyca threw him to the ground then stood over his body as she fired a series of arrows into the mob of creatures. The creatures stopped moving, and he was surprised to see the Warden raise her hands in a summoning fashion and heard her shout something. The he felt someone grab his arm and he was pulled back by one of the Warden's companions... Leliana he was sure her name was, and helped back onto his feet. The Warden's summoning was done, and a great black wolf appeared, with spear like hackles and a great growl. It leaped into the crowd of monsters and relieved a few of their limbs. She shouted over her shoulder, "Get him back to the Chantry, have Wynne check that wound on his leg." Leliana was dragging him away, firing her own bow in unison with Felyca as Teagan watched. She was ferocious, it looked as though nothing could touch her. And then Felyca was thrown to the ground, her bow was useless like that. The creature that had made her fall was standing over her, its weapon raised to spear her through her middle.

Then Alistair was there, jumping to her side, kneeling to block the incoming sword and grabbed her arm, pulling her to her feet with him as he stood. He held her a little longer than normal, Teagan thought, a little closer than was necessary, but the moment was soon interrupted by a screaming creature that was hastily cut down by Alistair. The Wardens glanced around them, her bow ready with an arrow, and her summoned creature near her feet, snarling. The last wave had been repelled and the village was still standing, along with those who had joined the fight last night. He was impressed, the Warden was good.

Really good.

She'd made it into the castle, leading Alistair, a dark haired mage and a qunari. The summoned wolf padded along beside her as though it was the most natural thing in the world. His own shock had been swallowed last night as he'd watched her fight, but now as she contemplated the fate of his nephew, he saw something cross her beautiful features. Pain? Remembrance? He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he was certain he'd learn what it was soon enough. Felyca wasn't one to hold secrets. She was glaring at the mage, Jowan, her jaw set and her teeth clenched as she said, "I'm not about to kill a child." Yes, it was pain he'd read on her face. Pain over what? A dead child?

"But if it..."

She cut off Isolde, a very bold move, with a raised hand and glowered at the mage, "I'm not sacrificing anyone, not to blood magic, not ever. There **is** another way and you **will** tell me what it is."

Isolde took a gulp for breath, "I will not have you treat me such in my own home!" she hissed, stepping forward.

Felyca's grey eyes flashed dangerously and she snarled at Isolde, "I will speak to you however I wish, Arlessa. You brought this hell upon yourself and your village by your foolish fear of magic. Maker strike me down for saying this, but what Andraste fought against wasn't magic, it was the mages of the Imperium. But because of them the Chantry would have us believe that all mages are evil. Makers blood, use your head, woman! The men in your family chose their path, they **chose** to be evil, but your son isn't like that. I could see it the moment the demon released him. Yet instead of sending him to the circle where he could be taught the perils of magic by those who'd experienced it first hand, you call a blood mage! Instead of protecting him you've exposed him to the very evil that you would have him avoid!"

Isolde raised her hand and brought it hard across the Warden's face, the sound of the slap echoed through the quiet room. Teagan watched as Alistair made to move forward, but was restrained by the female mage. The dark haired beauty was just smiling, as though she approved of what Felyca had just said. Teagan didn't know what he made of her remarks, but they did make sense. To condemn a group of people simply because a few were bad didn't seem right somehow... and yet...

Felyca turned back to face Isolde, "I'd be careful whom you raise your hand to, Lady Isolde. These are dark times, and assaulting a Cousland would not be looked on very kindly by most in this country."

Isolde's face went deathly white and she backed up a few steps, "A... a Cousland?"

Felyca brought a hand up to check her jaw, and raised an eyebrow, "Though I must admit, you hit harder than I would have expected." She shook out her other hand which had been clenched in a fist and looked Isolde straight in the eye. "Yes, I am the daughter of Teyrn Bryce Cousland, second only in power to the Kings of Ferelden at the Landsmeet and the only person that stands between you, your son and death." Felyca's icy gaze turned to Jowan again, "Now, tell me what other choices we have."

The village was safe, Connor was back to his old self (according to Teagan) and Isolde had learned a lesson. So why didn't I feel any better about the situation? There was a big celebration going on in the square and I was in a dress the arlessa had loaned me, but I was standing on the docks behind the village, looking at the castle's shadow on the water's surface. I heard the clink of metal clad feet on the wood behind me, but I didn't turn. Only two people I knew wore heavy chainmail, and only one of them would have cleared his throat to get my attention. I turned my head just enough to look over my shoulder, and Alistair came closer, stopping just to my side and held his hands behind his back. We stood there for a moment or two, then he spoke, "So... all this time we've spent together, you know, the tragedy, the brushes with death, the constant battles with the whole Blight thing looming over us... will you miss it, once it's over."

I snorted and looked at him as though he was crazy. Then I thought about it, my eyes glued to the soft glitter of his breastplate in the full moons light, "Miss the constant battles? Or miss you?"

He took my hand in his, a sudden move that made my heart race and my breath catch in my throat, "I know it might sound strange, considering we haven't known each other for very long, but I've come to... care for you, a great deal." he began to rub his thumb across the back of my hand, sending shivers down my spine. I was amazed that this very hand that only a day ago had wielded a sword against an army of undead could be so gentle with me. I had to swallow, my mouth was so dry. "I think it's because we've gone through so much together, I don't know... Maybe I'm just imagining it. Maybe I'm fooling myself..." he looked up from our joined hands to my eyes, "Am I? Fooling myself? Or do you.. ever.. think you might feel the same way about me?"

I couldn't breathe, was he asking me if I loved him? I didn't know that... not for sure anyway. "I don't know... perhaps it's too soon to say."

He licked his lips nervously and took a small step closer to me, "Well, is it too soon for this?" Then he kissed me.

It was soft, sweet, short and innocent. Nothing demanding, nothing overpowering or intimidating and nothing like the kisses I'd received from other suitors. His hands stayed where they were, one holding mine and the other on my arm, letting me be in control. I found myself comparing it to the last kiss I'd gotten, from a Lord Roger. Ugh, the thought made me shiver. Roger had no idea how to kiss a woman. He'd been all tongue and roving hands. But this... this was most definitely better and the man claimed to be a virgin! Alistair stepped back from me, breaking the kiss and looking searchingly into my face.

_Maker, he can see right into my soul when he looks at me like that._

"I don't know... I think I'll need more testing to be sure."

He smiled, "Well then, I'll just have to arrange that won't I?" he rested his forehead against mine as he brushed back my hair, "Maker's breath but you're beautiful. I am a lucky man." Then he kissed me.

And kissed me. And kissed me. And kissed me.

We stood there, looking over the lake at the mage tower in the distance. I was resting my head against his shoulder, his left hand was running up and down my spine, sending warm goosebumps all over my flesh. "Now that I've got you alone..." he started and I giggled, "What?"

I just smiled and shook my head, "You sound like you're about to ask me to make love to you."

He looked down at me, his face beet red, "WHAT! You thought that I... what?"

I couldn't help but laugh at the look on his face, "I'm sorry Alistair. I couldn't help it... and you did ask."

He gave me a look and kissed the tip of my nose, "Hm, I guess I did at that."

I held his arms and stepped away from him, "So what did you _really_ want to say?"

Alistair ran a hand through his hair and looked at me, "I want to talk about what happened, at the castle."

I nodded slowly, "Yes... about that."

He brought a finger to my lips and looked at me seriously. "I just wanted to thank you. You went out of your way to save the arl's family - and you did it! - when it would have been so much easier not to. There's been so much death and destruction, it... well, it makes me feel good that at least we were able to save something. No matter how small. I.."

I smiled up at him, "You what?"

His face went red again and he closed his eyes, "I owed the Arl that much."

I smiled, "Alistair, I... there's something I should tell you." Now it was his turn to give me a look. I took a deep breath and explained, "First, I want to apologize. I... I shouldn't have exploded like that at Isolde." I stepped away from him and folded my arms. "I know I've been doing a lot of that lately, but I just... when I looked at Connor all I saw was Oren." I felt him walk up behind me and he put his arms around my shoulders, kissing the top of my head. "He was so scared... and then to learn that his mother hired a **blood mage** intending to train him in secret? And she thought she was **protecting** him! After seeing that, all I could think of was all the things she could have done to you as a child and I... I lost it. Making you sleep in the stables seemed like nothing compared to some of the things I thought of." I turned around to look at him, my voice faltering as I thought about what I almost did. "I hate to admit it Alistair, but I considered it. I seriously considered letting Isolde die that night." I felt his sudden intake of breath but I'd gone this far, I had to finish. "Alistair, I was so close to letting that mage do whatever he thought best, I was just so angry with her... but there was this little voice at the back of my head telling me that there could be something else. That of I let either of them die, I wouldn't be any better than Howe." I glanced up at him, scared that he might reject me for being such a mess.

_Some leader you are, Felyca. If you can't even let your own past be what it is, the past._

Alistair just smiled at me, raising an eyebrow and clasping his hands behind my back. "Whose voice was it?"

I rested my hands against his breastplate and bit my lip, "It was yours. For whatever reason, I could hear you telling me not to do anything foolish. And I didn't..." I stared at my fingers, too nervous to look up into his face. "At least, I hope I didn't."

He brought a finger under my chin and made me look at him, "Felyca, you were beautiful in there, but I must say that out here..." he lowered his face to mine, "You're even more beautiful." My heart raced and he kissed me.

* * *

_"The Urn of Sacred Ashes. My mother had told me it may very likely be a legend, while Mother Mallol had insisted that it was indeed real. Either way I was about to find out. I didn't know for sure whether or not they would work, but there was something in my gut that said that I needed the Ashes as much as the Arl."_

* * *

The snow on the ground confirmed it, and I was hating every step. Snow meant winter, and winter meant my birthday, and my birthday meant that a full nine months had passed since Ostagar and the deaths of my family. We were cutting across the Bannorn, trying to avoid the main roads ever since we'd encountered Zevran...

_"Felyca, watch out!" Alistair grabbed my shoulder and shoved me to the ground, throwing himself in the way of the incoming arrow. I watched as he spun enough to deflect the point, but it wasn't quite enough. He fell hard on his side, grunting as he made contact and then holding still. I threw my head back and glowered at the archer, the only one of the group that had attacked us left. Bringing Falon'dins reach to point, I notched an arrow and let it fly. I didn't watch as it hit its target, I just knelt next to Alistair and pushed against his shoulder. He wasn't wearing his usual chainmail. He'd taken it off earlier, saying it was oppressive in the midday heat. And now he lay on the ground, with an arrow in his chest. An arrow meant for me._

_ "Alistair... Alistair, please. Open your eyes... Please be alright." Morrigan stood behind me, watching the road around us. _

_ "Warden!" Sten shouted, and I looked up from trying to get Alistair to stir. Sten was dragging the elven leader of the assassin's toward me, my arrow protruding from his shoulder. _

_ "I missed." I growled, standing as the qunari dropped the body at my feet. _

_ "What do you want to do with him?" Morrigan asked, the lightening she commanded sparking between her fingers. I shook my head, and looked at Alistair. His chest moved slowly and he let out a low groan. _

_ "Thank the Maker." I hissed, then knelt back down. "Tie him up and put him in the wagon. I'll think about what to do with him." the tree blocking the path would take a far amount of time to move, "We'll set up camp here, for the night." As they moved away from me, I shifted so that I could give Alistair a better look. "You're a damn fool, you know that?" I hissed and his eyelids fluttered slightly. I smiled at him and looked up as Wynne came over to me, "He took an arrow to the chest." I said, watching as she wove a shield of magic over his body. "I don't know if..." _

_ The older woman looked at me and smiled, "Don't worry so much, my dear girl." she looked over her shoulder, "Sten, could you help me move him into the shade, there?"_

_ Three hours passed, and I was pacing in front of Alistair's tent when the elf finally roused himself. I went over to him, trying hard to swallow my gut reaction of slicing his throat. "Mmm.. what? Oh, I rather thought I'd wake up dead. Or not wake up at all as the case may be." He glanced around himself, his torso now strapped to a tree trunk. I knelt in front of him, one hand on a knife the other balancing myself on the ground. "But I see you haven't killed me yet." his eyes met mine, and he smiled. Or tried to with how I was glaring at him. _

_ "I thought I'd torture you first."_

_ His smile widened, "But the purpose behind torture is to interrogate yes? In that case, perhaps I'll save you a bit of time and get right to the point. My name is Zevran, Zev to my friends. I am a member of the Antivan crows. Brought here for the soul purpose of killing any surviving Grey Wardens, which I have failed at..."_

_ I snorted, "Obviously." He just nodded and shrugged, "Who hired you to kill us?"_

_ "A rather taciturn fellow in the capital, Loghain I think it was. Yes, that was it."_

_ "Does that mean that you're loyal to him?" _

_ Zevran raised an eyebrow, "I have no idea what his issues are with you. The usual, I imagine, you threaten his power, yes? Beyond that, no, I'm not loyal to him. I was contracted to perform a service." _

_ I shook my head, incredulous. "Why are you telling me this?" _

_ He snorted, "Why not? I wasn't paid for silence. Not that I offered it for sale, precisely." _

_ I dropped my knife point down into the dirt, right between his legs and stared into his face,watching for the tell-tale signs of a liar. "Aren't you at least loyal to your employers?" _

_ He glanced at the knife, dangerously close to something I was sure he'd like to keep, "Loyalty is an interesting concept, If you wish and are done interrogating me, perhaps we could discuss it further?" _

_ I sat back on my rump, crossing my legs and twirling another knife in my fingers. It was something my brother had taught me, when dealing with an unknown danger. 'Show them you have no fear' he'd said, 'And you'd be surprised what you can get people to say.' Now Zevran was watching me with an interesting look on his face, one caught somewhere between curiosity and outright fear. Not really that he feared me, I could read that much into it, but more what I would do __**to**__ him. "I'm listening." _

_ He cleared his throat, "Well, you see, I've failed to kill you so now my life is forfeit. If you don't kill me the Crows most certainly will. Thing is, I like living, so why not let me serve you instead." My heart stopped. Was he serious? He couldn't possibly be serious! Why in all the Fade would I want to bring the man who had just tried to kill me and my friends closer! And let him see where I slept... _

_ "You must think I'm royally stupid!" I launched up onto my haunches, the knife in my fingers bending his head back and holding steady against his jugular. _

_ He smiled at me, "__**I**__ think you're royally tough to kill, and utterly gorgeous." That caught me off guard, and I fell back, removing the blade form his throat. "Not that I think you'll respond to simple flattery, but there are worse things in life than serving the whims of a deadly sex goddess." I sheathed the second knife and wrapped my fingers around the grip of the one in the dirt._

_ "If...__**IF**__ I let you live, what would you want in return?" He thought for a moment, "Being allowed to live would be nice. And somewhere down the line, if you no longer have need of me, then I go my way."_

_ "Why would I want your service?"_

_ "Why? Because I am skilled at many things! I could warn you should the Crows attempt something more...sophisticated, now that I have failed. I could also stand around and look pretty if you prefer. Warm your bed? Fend off unwanted suitors, no?"_

_ "No." I thought it over, biting my lip. "I suppose you'll have to earn what little trust I have for those who try to kill me." I said, removing my blade from between his legs and standing. He bowed his head to me, "But you're staying there tonight, I think. I won't risk you killing my friends when I've another to look after." I replaced the weapon on my thigh and was almost back at Alistair's tent when Zevran appeared in front of me._

_ "Like I said, I am skilled at many things." he whispered, then disappeared into the shadows beyond the main fire circle._

The assassin now trailed behind the wagon, taking the rear guard. Sten hadn't exactly been happy about it and had positioned himself between Zevran and me, with Alistair walking close at my right. With Zevran's botched attack it had become very clear, Loghain wanted us dead and was willing to go to any lengths to be rid of us. Alistair and I were some of the only things standing between him and full control of the country, and it bothered me. The pieces were beginning to fall into place; Loghain's betrayal at Ostagar, the poisoning of the arl, Howe's attack on my family. Someone had schemed this, someone had been the orchestrator of all this chaos. Someone... someone... to me that someone was most likely Howe.

We were cutting across Bann Lorens' lands when I heard the ruckus ahead. I glanced at Alistair and nodded slowly. He dropped into a crouch and made his way forward as I crept to the edge of the cliff we were on, motioning for Wynne to join me. The mage had proven herself useful so far, and I was glad of the company. I kept Sten back to guard the wagon, and listened in on a conversation I hadn't thought I'd hear.

There were six men below me, five in basic leather and the last dressed in the slightly finer apparel I usually associated with nobility. The soldiers, I assumed that's what they were, were shoving the last man around shouting, "Where is it!" and "Traitor!" and other rather unpleasant things. I bit my lip and glanced at Wynne, who couldn't take it anymore than me. I raised my bow, put an arrow to the shelf and let one fly. It struck the nearest soldier right between his shoulder blades and he dropped backwards, forcing the point up through his chest. I smiled, it really was a beautiful shot, but it caused the other soldiers to panic, and one of them stepped forward, forcing a dagger into the nobly dressed mans gut. I slid down the cliff, it really wasn't that tall, and fired another series of arrows as my friends came pouring over the far ridge. We made quick work of the soldiers, but we weren't fast enough to save the poor man, who turned out to be one of King Cailan's closest confidantes.

He died in my arms... but not before telling me the further details about Ostagar.

"You'll be taking me with you, aren't you? Call me sentimental, but I left behind some darkspawn that really deserve a sword through the middle." Alistair asked as we piled rocks over the body.

I can him a half grin, "For whom? For Cailan or Duncan?"

He huffed, then looked at me square, "Both of them."


	10. Meanwhile 2

Alistair paced the length of the command tent, his anger rising with each minute that passed without Leliana's return. He'd sent her out the night before, and now that dawn was breaking over the camp, he couldn't help but feel anxious. Teagan would enter every once in a while, only to tell him of Felyca's status, "No change, she's still holding on, but Alistair..."

It was at that point that Alistair would turn and glare at him, "No. She will live." And then he would return to pacing as Teagan slipped out of sight. It went on like this for agonizingly long hours, with few interruptions from the different commanders of the elves, dwarves and men that had followed Felyca so willingly to death.

Finally Wynne came to him, her face still pale and looking drained. "We've healed the physical injuries, Alistair, but there's something wrong with her..." She didn't know how to describe it. The young king-to-be was on her in two steps, "What's wrong with her?"

Wynne blew out her breath, "I don't know."

Alistair's face paled, "Then will she... Can she..."

Wynne shrugged, "Honestly Alistair, I don't know. It seems as though something has control over her soul. It's not a demon as far as we can tell but it is something not wholly of Felyca and it is very powerful."

She put a hand on his cheek, mothering him still even after all they had been through, "She is stable for now, but we cannot seem to get her to wake. The reason I came here was to ask if we could move her in here. We need the extra cots in the healers tent and I thought that maybe..."

"Maybe I could help her." Alistair finished, spinning on his heel. He threw open the small dividing curtain and Wynne saw the great bed that the servants had set up for him. "Bring her here, Wynne." He gave her one of the most serious looks she'd ever seen from him, "I want her where I can see her." As Wynne ducked out of the tent, Alistair rearranged the pillows, remembering another time when he'd prepared a bed for his beloved.

They were just outside of Orzammar, making their way towards Haven, and she had sent Bodahn and his son ahead of them, with Sten, Shale, Morrigan and Zevran as their escort. Earlier that day Leliana had fallen down a small cliff face and while she lived, it wasn't without a broken ankle. Wynne had been able to set the bones, but she had insisted that the bard remain off of it for a few more days just to be sure the healing took. And so it was that when Bodahn clicked his horses forward, Leliana and Wynne were seated in the back amongst his wares, leaving the two Grey Wardens alone for the first time in all their travels and Alistair was nervous. They were only about a days walk behind the rest of their companions, but he was nervous. And it wasn't even the fact that it was only he, Felyca and Calen. It was more the fact that they would have to set up camp by themselves... and it was bitterly cold outside. One tent would be so much warmer with two bodies...

But he didn't know how to ask her that without sounding like the fool.

Over the course of their trek, he'd watched her fell hundreds of enemies, but every night at camp he'd seen her play with Calen, listen to Leliana's tales and have political discussions with Sten, actions all contrary to the savagery with which she could behead a Genlock. She was a woman, and all he'd been told about them was to treat them with respect and to not get fresh with them, no matter how much he wanted to. But Felyca tested his Templar discipline almost to the breaking point. At first he didn't think that she did it on purpose, that gentle sway of her hips, the way she would toss back her hair; but since when did Felyca ever **not** do something on purpose? And then the way she would curl her legs around a tree limb, hold herself against the trunk as she got the lay of the land... he felt sparks shoot down his spine as he pictured it. And then there was the matter of her hair. They hadn't had the time or the money, and it was mostly the money, for them to properly see to their appearances and her hair had been the most obvious testament to this. When he'd first met her, Felyca's hair had just brushed her shoulders, but now she had to pull it back in a ponytail to keep it out of her face. He'd caught her brushing it out once, when they were heading for Soldiers Peak, and he'd never forgotten how it had shimmered in the candlelight. It looked so soft, and he could just imagine how it would feel running through his fingers. There were even times on watch, as the two of them huddled around the small campfire, he couldn't help but notice how perfectly she fit beneath his shoulder and next to him. Almost as though she'd been cut from the opposing mold he was, formed by the Maker himself to meld against him. And there was the way she would kiss him, with lips that tasted like berry wine and a body that would squirm beneath his hesitant touch.

They stopped moving for the day and she was digging through her pack for something when he approached her. "All right, I guess I really don't know how to ask you this."

She looked up at him, eyebrows raised, "Is it really important? I was just about to take a bath."

He felt himself flush, "Er... no? I suppose not, I just thought we were in camp... and that we might... talk?"

She looked him over and put a hand to his forehead, "You're sweating, and you look really pale. Are you sick? Maybe we should move ahead and get Wynne."

He gripped her hand and held it tightly, "NO! Uh... No. I'm not sick, I just... I mean, yes, I'm a little nervous. Sure! Not that this is anything bad or frightening or... well, yes. How do I say this? You'd think this would be easier but every time I'm around you I feel as though my head's about to explode, I can't think straight."

She made a face at him, not really understanding, "Oh? Thanks a lot."

He dropped her hand and put his face in his hands, "I didn't mean, ugh... let me start over?"

She smirked, "I think you should."

He took a deep slow breath, and let it out, "Here's the thing, being near you makes me crazy. But I can't imagine being without you... not ever. I don't know how to say this another way, but I want to spend the night with you... here, in camp. Maybe this is too fast, I don't know... but I know what I feel." There it was, his heart on a golden platter, waiting for her to stomp it to pieces.

He watched a thousand emotions play on her face as she considered what he'd said, "I thought you wanted it to be special. The camp isn't exactly private..." her breath was coming quickly, "Alistair, I thought you wanted to wait..."

He put a finger over her mouth, "I wanted to wait for perfection, but when will it ever be perfect? If things were we never would have even met! I... I've never done this before and you know that. I want it to be with you, while we have the chance, in case..."

She removed his finger from her lips, "Don't talk like that! There could be time later..." He watched her eyes and for the first time saw something there that he'd never seen on her before. Fear.

"Could be?" he smirked, and rested his hands on her shoulders, a safe neutral place. "We sort of stumbled into one another and despite this being the **least** perfect time, I found myself falling for you, between all the fighting and everything else." He carefully brushed aside a stray bit of hair from her face, letting his finger stroke her cheek, "Besides, will there be time later?"

She bit her lower lip, and took a small inching step closer, "To be honest, I thought you'd never ask." she looked up at him then, and he noticed the fear was gone, replaced by something he could only hope was love. He leaned in to kiss her, and found himself falling into heaven.

The predawn light found them spooning, she with her back against his chest and his arm holding her tightly across her belly. He stirred and lifted his head enough to look at her, her hair spread across the pillow and eyes closed. He could only pray that she was having a good dream, not one of the Blight induced nightmares that seemed to be plaguing her more and more of late. He gently kissed her shoulder and she shifted, rolling onto her back to look up at him. "Morning."

She opened those fascinating grey eyes of hers and smiled at him. A genuinely happy smile. "Morning, to you too."

"You know, according to all the sisters at the monastery, I should have been struck by lightening by now."

Her eyes sparkled and she turned even more, so now her naked body was pressing against him seductively, "Nah. Not for that performance."

He chuckled, "Meaning it was so great that the Maker would forgo his usual punishment?" She buried her head in his shoulder and said something, and he pulled her back, "What?"

She smiled sleepily, "I said, 'you're to handsome to be rid of.'"

He kissed her hotly, then pulled back as his mind continued to wake up, "You do know the rest of our little band is going to talk, right? They do that."

Her brow wrinkled, "Who's going to tell them? You?"

He shook his head and laid on his back, pulling her onto his chest as he did so. "I won't have to. Morrigan will give me 'that look' I just know it." Somewhere off in the distance a crow cawed, "And if she watched the whole thing I'll feed her to Calen." He looked down at her, "You really should kick her ass for me sometime. I'd pay to watch that fight."

Felyca giggled and shimmied herself up his elongated frame, "Tell you what, first smart comment and I'll feed her to the darkspawn."

"See. This is why I love you." He kissed her nose, "So what now? Where do we go from here?"

She lifted her head and grinned mischievously, "Who said we had to go anywhere?"

He looked at her, unsure if he knew her meaning, then inhaled swiftly as he registered where her other hand was, "We're a full day behind the others already." he hissed, forcing himself to ignore what she was doing.

He groaned and tried to roll away, but Felyca didn't let him, "Oh no you don't. It's taken me months to get you like this. I'm going to take full advantage of it." With that she kissed him, and the world melted away again.

* * *

Leliana leaned on her bow and took a deep breath. It felt like she'd been walking all over Ferelden, again, and she needed a rest. The fires were finally put out, but the acrid smell of burnt flesh and smoke still filled her nostrils. She swallowed bile and shook her head.

_ Leliana, you sure do get yourself into some bad scraps_.

She'd scoured the entire city, and there was no sign of Morrigan. The woman had simply vanished. No one had seen her since she'd left the city gates and no one was particularly anxious to find her.

_Alistair isn't going to like this._

Leliana sat down on a tumbled piece of stone and looked around the small square she'd found herself in, listening to the growing wails coming from the people emerging from their hiding places, and trying to ignore her growling stomach. She could just picture the looks on the faces of the women as they saw their carefully tended lawns and gardens now trampled under the feet of the darkspawn and soldiers. The howls of the men as they saw their lovingly built homes now collapsed by the Ogres or burned to the ground by the fires. She could handle these, but what cut into her heart were the tears of the children as they called out for now missing fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers.

_Dear Andraste, bless those that have lost someone in this war. May your grace and love protect them, as you have protected me._

She leaned back on the wall behind her and closed her eyes, remembering a time when the shouts of men and women hadn't bothered her so much. When she'd fought alongside a powerful warrior, and a true friend.

Haven was... she didn't know quite how to describe it. Words absolutely failed her when she sat down that night to think it out. Felyca sat near her, her feet planted on the dirt and her arms braced against her knees as her head hung low. "Felyca... what is it?"

The woman's head popped up and stared at Leliana in surprise, "Huh? What?"

Leliana smiled and giggled, "You weren't asleep, were you?"

Felyca shook her head, resting her chin on her arms as she stared into the fire, "I was just... thinking." she shrugged with the last and glanced back over at Leliana. "Why? Something on your mind?"

Leliana shrugged, and slid over closer to her friend. "You look as though you would like to talk about something."

Felyca half grinned, "Maybe. I was just thinking about Haven. How could an entire village be that... that..."

Leliana laughed, "You know I was just thinking about that as well. It's good to know that I'm not the only one who can't seem to find the words to describe what was there." Felyca was again lost in the dance of the flames and it was making Leliana nervous. "Why do you do that?" she asked.

Felyca turned back to her, "Do what?"

Leliana motioned to the fire, "Stare into the fire like that. It seems as though you're losing yourself in some intoxicating scene."

Felyca snorted and adjusted in her seat, crossing her legs and leaning back on her hands. "Intoxicating... I suppose you could say that." She brushed back a twig that was under her palm and rubbed her hands together. "It's just something I've always done. My father would often hold me on his lap when he told me stories, and I would watch the fire. Sometimes I could imagine that I saw the people he was telling me about in the flames." She let her head tip back, watching the stars shift in the heavens. "You would have loved the great hall in Highever, Leliana." she whispered, glancing at the bard on her right. Leliana felt her eyes widen and her keen ears picked up on the rest of the camp calming around them as their leader finally opened up about the family she'd been mourning all this time. "The main hall isn't the largest, but it is the warmest and the acoustics are perfect for a bard's voice. Whenever I would walk inside, I knew I was safe." She adjusted again, picking up the twig from earlier and making a sketch in the dirt between them.

"When you first enter Highever, there's the main courtyard, flanked by twin guard bunks on the main floor. On these walls are stairs that lead to the upper floors of the guard towers, and the only way to get around the castles parapets." She continued to draw as she spoke, the look on her face one of pure joy as she described her home, "Just beyond here are two doors, this one leads to the chapel.. This one leads to the back rooms, the servants quarters and more guard rooms. If you follow either one back and around, you'll get to the atrium. "Back down here is the main hall, with a great fireplace. Even with Highever's open roof, the warmest place to be is on the back wall of that fire. I can't tell you how many times I would huddle next to that wall with Calen on my feet and Fergus next to me, reading me different books out of our grandfather's library - which is here by the way, with a small study through this door. The dinning hall is here, just above the kitchen here and the larder. I can't tell you how many times Calen snuck into that larder, just to bother Nan, our cook. Over on this side, down a small corridor is the treasury, with only one key to it's door." Felyca reached into the pouch at her side and removed a fairly hefty key, and flipped it in the air, then tucked it back into the pouch on her side. "Anyway, through the atrium, you follow the hall around, passing the smaller family dinning room. This is the first door to the family's quarters, and each of these rooms here are reserved for visitors." Her breath stopped for a moment, and she drew an x through one of the rooms, "When Duncan stayed with us, he was in this one." she paused for a moment, then continued, "You'll go through a second door, and be in a small hallway. On your right is my brothers room, ahead is my parents, the largest and grandest in the house, and this one," she drew another x on the ground, "this is my room, or was."

Leliana watched her lean back again, her eyes focusing on the drawing in the dirt, "Yes. That is Highever Castle, as it was. And as it will be again." She threw the twig into the fire and watched as it ignited in the flames, "Once this business with the Blight is over with, I have every intention of returning to Highever, and I will see Howe take justice for what he has done." Felyca stood, taking up Spear Thrower and her quiver, "Mind to put it some target practice before we turn in?" Leliana grabbed up her own bow and followed Felyca to a small clearing, just inside the light of the fire.

They stood side by side, each notching an arrow, and letting them fly in unison. Felyca's arrow struck true, burying itself in the wood of the tree she'd aimed for, while Leliana's flew just aside of her target. Felyca laughed teasingly, "You never have quite gotten used to that new one, have you?" Leliana shook her head and set the recurve on the ground; Felyca smiled, "I shouldn't be teasing you about it. Marjolane... that bow was specifically crafted for her. Having someone else use it is almost like... I don't know. The closest thing I can think of is a whole village of people thinking a high dragon is Andraste." She shook her head, coming over to stand beside the bard. "Now let me.. yes, now I get it. You're treating this like a shortbow when really it's a recurve. The mechanics are the same but the kick is different, so..." She shifted Leliana's fingers down a bit, and helped her adjust the arrow, "if you grip it just a bit tighter here and let these fingers... Yes, that should do it."

"Who taught you that?" Leliana asked as Felyca stepped away from her, letting the girl fire another arrow. This time it struck it's target. "My mother."

"This is the first you've ever mentioned your mother."

Felyca had returned to her weapon and was stringing another arrow, "Yes, I know." She fired another three arrows before she said another word, but Leliana knew that all she had to do was wait. After a few tense moments, Felyca lowered her weapon and raised a throwing knife. Leliana watched as the knife flew through the air and struck the last arrow she'd fired, splitting it down the middle. "My mother taught me how to do that too." she whispered, looking at the ground. "All my life, I'd never once seen my mother miss her target." she took a slow breath, then looked up at the stars. "I never doubted my parents love for me or my brother. I may have had a nanny, but it was always my mother that tucked me in at night, always my father that told me stories before I'd go to sleep. My friends were my brother, our father's first man, Ser Gilmore and Calen. But even more than that, I knew who I was in the world, who my parents were and whom I could trust. Then, in one horrible night, it was gone, my parents murdered and I was running for my life with a man I barely knew. I was thrust into an impossible situation with no hope of avenging my family, and surrounded by a rag tag band of people I couldn't trust." Leliana huffed and Felyca giggled, "And to top it all off, I was put as their leader. ME! Can you imagine? I could barely keep my self from falling apart how could I keep morale high amongst those that followed me?" she started laughing again, "I wasn't ready for that! I may have been born and bred for it, but I wasn't ready! But then something wonderful happened. I learned I wasn't alone."

Leliana nodded, "I see. I suppose that explains it." She was shot a look and quickly explained, "Why you reacted the way you did, when you saw your father in the Gauntlet."

Felyca straightened her back and looked away, her eyes roving over the smaller campsite. "My father was a Cousland, but even before that he was a great and caring man. He didn't deserve the death he had, neither did my mother, but seeing him... He told me once that he trusted me completely to carry on the Cousland name. I think it's high time I start acting like one. And a Grey Warden to boot, eh?" her mouth quirked in a cocky grin, and Leliana couldn't help but laugh.

"And you think you haven't as of yet?"

Felyca shook her head, "Don't get me wrong, I've had my moments, but you've yet to see how a Cousland will handle the death of a king, the betrayal of friends and family, and this civil war."

Leliana had watched Felyca gather her arrows, all those that she could anyway, then tuck herself into the confines of her and Alistair's tent. There was no doubt in her mind what the two Wardens would be doing this night or the rest of their nights on the road. Leliana walked back into the main camp, stashing her weapons near the entrance to her own shared tent. "You are a great and noble woman, Felyca." she whispered to the air, watching as the small light in the Wardens' shared tent went out, "I only hope he deserves you."


	11. Orzammar Haven

Ostagar was terrible. I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened here, and who should really have died here. We were camped outside of Haven now, perhaps a day outside the village, but I couldn't expect Alistair to take another step. He had withdrawn back into himself, but I couldn't exactly blame him. We'd found Duncan's sword and dagger on the battlefield and then to be the ones to send Cailan off... that had been the last straw for him. I could see it in the way he walked back to camp that night and in the way he sat, dejected, near his tent and away from the group.

I made my way towards him, making it look like I wasn't trying to bother him. "I was thinking about getting some training in before I head to sleep... Care to join me?" I looked down at him, with my hands on my hips.

He eyed me carefully, "Are you sure? Wouldn't Leliana or Zevran be more suited for..."

I interrupted him, shaking my head vigorously, "Normally yes. But I've got some pent up anger only a Grey Warden can handle." I squatted next to him, showing my plethora of throwing knives and daggers, "I always trained with my brother and Ser Gilmore. Don't be afraid of hurting me." I watched his face. His eyes shifted around the camp, and then he nodded, hefting his newly acquired sword and shield. "I saw a small clearing just past those trees," I said, standing, "The light's better over there anyway." He was still silent, but walked to where I'd pointed and waited for me to follow. I glanced over at Wynne as I walked past her, and smiled grimly. I was going to get him talking again even if it took a few cuts to do it.

We circled each other for a good hour, every few moments he or I would lunge and swing at the other. I had exhausted my supply of throwing knives, and was about to resort to a small trick Zevran had taught me when Alistair held up his hand and took a knee. "Wait... please. Let me take a breath." he jabbed Maric's sword into the dirt and let Cailan's shield drop onto the frozen ground as he knelt. "You're good." he breathed, watching me closely.

I shrugged, "So I've been told." I took a few steps towards him, "Are you ready to talk about it?" His head snapped up, and he was instantly on his feet.

"No."

I sighed and brought up one of my daggers beneath his chin, "If you don't it'll eat you up inside."

He raised an eyebrow at me, "Oh? And what about you? Are you willing to talk about what happened to you?"

I set my jaw and pressed the flat of my dagger against his throat. "That's different."

He scoffed, "How?" he tossed my arm wide, trying his best to be menacing. It was working though. I dropped the dagger and took a few steps backwards, but I don't think he registered it.

"They were my family."

His eyes blazed, and he lifted his sword. I hadn't been watching as carefully as I should have, _when did he get that back_? The point was just beneath my chin as he growled, "And the Grey Wardens were mine." I held still, waiting for him to do something. I really hoped he would chose to drop the sword, but he didn't. We stood that way for another moment before I braved stepping closer, bringing a finger up to run along the swords edge and gently pushing it away from me as I got closer to him.

"We've both lost family, Alistair. We both need to move beyond it."

I watched him swallow, and then his arm lowered, the sword clattering onto the ground. "I don't think I can." I smiled sadly up into his face.

_Why is it that men have to be so much danged taller than me!_

"I don't think I can either."

His face crumpled and he fell to his knees, covering his face with his hands as he started to sob. It was heartbreaking, but something he had to do. I knelt in front of him and gathered him into my arms, as much as I could. I rested my forehead against his crown and whispered, "I know, Alistair. I know. He meant a lot to me too." I felt his arms wrap around me and he pulled me into a tight hug. I could barely breathe, but I knew he needed this release.

How long we stayed that way, just holding each other I'll never know. But thank the Maker it was Leliana who came to get us.

* * *

My birthday dawned bright and clear, which I found to be surprising considering all the tales my father used to tell me about the day I was born.

_"There was this great blizzard, pup. Worse than any that most mages can summon. The flakes were this big!"_ He would hold up my child sized hand and wait for me to gasp in wonder, _"And the healer that was supposed to help your mother couldn't get here. Time would just drag on and on..."_ I would smile widely then and squeal, _"And then the storm broke!"_ And then he would smile and kiss the top of my head, hug me close and say, _"Yes, and then the storm broke and you were born."_

It was a story that he loved to tell, and I loved to hear it when I was young. As I grew older and I learned the finer details of being a grown woman, I learned that what my father had so happily told me wasn't anywhere near the honest truth. But it was still a great story, and I thought about it the entire trek up the pass to Orzammar. I thought I'd gotten away with it, not telling any of my friends that it was my birthday, that I was able to spend the day with happy memories, but...

We were just finishing dinner when Leliana plunked a paper and twine wrapped object into my lap and sat next to me, her movements still a little awkward from her tumble four days earlier. "What's this?" I asked, holding it in front of her face.

She shrugged, "Why does it have to be anything?" I gave her a look and rolled my eyes. Soon the paper was on the ground as I held in my hands a bottle of some of the finest Orlesian bath oils I had ever seen. My jaw dropped as I uncorked the bottle and took a slow sniff. "Lilac... and lavender... Leliana where did you get the money to buy this?" I stared at the bard in awe, "I know exactly how much money we have in that purse and there is no way we had enough to afford..."

Leliana's face broke into a wide smile, "Remember our conversation about the fine things I had in Orlais?" I nodded slowly, "Well, when I left, I could afford to take only a few things with me. I hid this in my trunk in the Chantry in Lothering and I... I thought you should have it."

I shook my head, "Leliana, I can't... This is too much, I can't..."

She shook her head at me, "Even the fearless leader deserves a good birthday present."

My head snapped up and I stared at her, "How... how did you know?"

She smiled sheepishly and looked away, "You'll hate me for this but I... I looked it up while we were in Redcliffe. The arl has an extensive library, including a list of all the nobility in Ferelden."

I shook my head, "You looked it up? You could have asked, Leliana. I would have told you."

She smiled at me, "Oh no you wouldn't have. You're forgetting that I know you, Felyca. We've traveled together now for how long and you think that you can hide the fact that you don't like discussing yourself?" She glanced around the camp, at each individual around the cook fire and nodded.

Zevran gave me a dagger with a series of emeralds and sapphires at the cross piece, "The ridge here is hollow," he explained as I held it to the light, the jewels sparkling, "And this is actually a button here," He guided my fingers to the small sapphire set in the center of a circle of emeralds, "to release whatever you may have inside."

I arched an eyebrow and looked at him, "Like poison?"

He grinned wickedly, "Perhaps, my dear Warden, or perhaps a love potion?" I shook my head, smiling broadly and tucked the dagger in the empty spot on my belt. It was perfect, since I'd lost one of my favorite knives in a fight with darkspawn in getting Shale, the stoic golem that now stood over every watch.

Wynne rested a hand on my shoulder and handed me a small leather bound book. I flipped through it quickly, and found the pages to be blank. "I thought you might wish to write some things down, Felyca." she said, watching me carefully. "I know that some things are just hard to verbalize and thought that perhaps writing them down might be easier."

I smiled gently, "Thank you. I will use it, I promise." Morrigan practically threw her gift at me, a small vial of a rather thick, disgusting looking potion. "What is it?"

She shrugged. "I found it in Flemeth's grimoire. It is an old recipe and while it wasn't given a name, by the ingredients I can assume that it is not a poison, but perhaps more of a binding concoction." I peered carefully at the contents of the vial and uncorked it, "I would not recommend smelling it. It is most foul, but I have no doubt that it would be useful." I replaced the cork and carefully placed the vial amongst the others in my personal pack. Whether or not I trusted Flemeth, I wasn't certain, but I was beginning to trust Morrigan with my life, despite the growing protests from certain other companions.

Sten came forward, the package in his hands larger than the others that I could see, and he was much more nervous about giving it. "Kadan, I..."

I stood up and grasped the item in both my hands, "No explanation is necessary. Somehow I don't think the qunari would celebrate birthdays." he shook his head, and I commenced in opening the wrappings. Everyone gasped in awe as the paper fell away and my hand wrapped around it. It was a beautiful longbow with matching quiver, made of dragonthorn with ornately carved limbs that twisted almost like those from a tree. It was strung with a braid of tree sinew and string and the grip felt as though it had been carved specifically for my hand alone. The carvings on the limbs depicted different scenes and I had kneel closer to the fire to get a better look at them. The first showed a great castle being burned and what appeared to be a woman fleeing the scene. The woman reappeared in the next, standing proud over a wasted battlefield, with a canine companion at her side. Next the woman was in front of a cage, with a man inside, followed closely with her freeing the man. The entire bow was like this, but near the end the scenes dropped off and I looked up at Sten in awe, "This is... this is me, isn't it? The woman in these pictures?"

He crossed his arms and nodded curtly, "Yes, Kadan."

Alistair piped up, his present still in his lap, "Don't let him fool you, Sten spent an insane amount of gold on that bow. I know because I was there when he commissioned it. You should have seen the blacksmith's face when he told him what he wanted." Alistair looked over at Sten, something akin to friendship on his face, "He was shown at least ten other bows that might have sufficed, but he wanted that one." Sten kicked at the ground, his face a mask, but I could tell he was bothered by all the attention. I walked quickly over to my current quiver and removed a single arrow to test the tensile strength of the string and was surprised to find that it was even stronger than it looked. I pulled back as far as I could took careful aim at a tree just beyond the light of the fire, and let the arrow fly. The string snapped back into place, skidding across my arm and I let out a yelp of pain. It was a rookie mistake to make and I shook out my arm as I watched the arrow strike the target. The bark of the tree shattered around the point of impact and when I walked over to the tree to retrieve the arrow my jaw dropped.

My arrow, made of ash wood, was buried half way through the trunk of the tree. "Maker!" I breathed, gripping the arrow just below the fletchings and yanked as hard as I could. It didn't move, and all I got out of it was several cuts on my hand from the fletchings. I turned back to Sten and walked towards him carefully, wrapping my hand in a spare bandage. I held the upper limb towards him, which he took gently in one of his giant hands. It was an old tradition in my family, one that my father had taught me when he gave me my first bow. It was 'showing' the bow one that it may never shoot at, and I was sure that Sten not only picked up on the formality of the gesture, but also the meaning behind it.

"What should I call it, Sten?" I whispered, keeping my voice steady.

His violet eyes bore into mine and I could feel the looks of those behind me. "It is your weapon, Kadan. Call it whatever you wish."

I raised the bow, taking another look at the carvings in the wood and drew aim again at the poor tree, "This bow could fire a spear. I think perhaps, Spear Thrower?"

Sten nodded approvingly, "Yes. Spear Thrower." He walked away slowly, joining Shale on the first watch. I stood still, waiting for the others to creep away from the main fire. The bow felt right in my hand, as though somehow I had been there to oversee the entire process of it being made. Usually dragonthorn felt heavy, almost too thick to be used for a good bow, but this... This must have been made by a master, because it felt like it weighed nothing.

I could feel Alistair coming closer to me and wrap his arms around me, nuzzling the back of my neck. "You should have seen him when we went to the shop. I've only seen him with that much determination in battle, and was he ever set on having this bow come out right."

I leaned back against him, welcoming the warmth of his body against mine. "It really is beautiful. I almost wish I didn't have to use it." I quickly bent to pick up the quiver and looked at it more carefully. It was slightly larger than the one I used currently, and just below the lip, on the exterior of it was a slot that looked as though it could... "Alistair, why is this..." He lifted my family sword in front of me and carefully slid it into the pocket.

"You wouldn't believe how many times I almost got caught when I snuck off with this."

"But why..."

He nipped at my neck, "Because you deserve it."

"I deserve it?"

"Yes. You deserve a bow as beautiful as you are."

I blushed and was grateful that he was standing behind me, "You think I'm beautiful?"

He took a great breath, "Of course you are and you **know** it. You're ravishing, resourceful and all those other things you'll probably hurt me for not saying."

"I could never hurt you, Alistair." I paused, then added, "At least, not without warning you first."

I felt him chuckle and he rested his chin against my shoulder, "Nor I you." We stood there for a moment longer, then he whispered, "You're missing a gift."

I smiled, "Oh? And whose might that be? Shale didn't get me something did it?"

He released me with a huff and mocked a pout, "Oh, is that all I am now? Half a dozen stolen kisses and a warm companion on watch?"

I giggled and turned to him, "And let's not forget a willing bed partner."

He turned crimson and rested his forehead against mine. "With talk like that, I'm surprised no one else has said anything."

I giggled, "Actually, Wynne has."

"What did she say?"

His grip on my waist tightened and I shrugged, "She just..." I pulled away from him, "She brought up a good point." I bit my lip, not sure how I wanted to say this, "We are both Grey Wardens, and like it or not you are the son of a king, and most likely the heir to his throne." He opened his mouth to protest, but I covered it with my hand, "Please, Alistair. Let me finish. We both have responsibilities that bear more weight than our more... **personal**... desires. As Grey Wardens we cannot afford to be selfish; we could be forced to chose between our own deaths and the deaths of thousands. What choice would you make?"

He looked hard at me, his eyes boring into mine, "Are you saying you want to..."

I shook my head, "No." I took his face in my hands and pulled gently on him, "No, Alistair. While I admit, I'm not sure what the future will hold for us, I'm not going to just give up because some old woman thinks I might get hurt." I smirked, "I wouldn't have Calen with me if I thought that way." He wasn't convinced, I could see it in his eyes. "Alistair, I love you. Did you hear me? I **love** you, and **only** you. There's no one else I could possibly love this much and no one else I want to spend what life I have left with."

His face softened, "You really mean that, don't you?" I nodded, and there it was. My heart on a golden platter waiting for him to stomp it into the dirt. Instead he brought his hands up to mine, kissed each knuckle then led me slowly to our tent. I woke the next morning alone to the sounds of the camp being dismantled, but on his pillow was a small pouch. Brushing my hair from my face, I sat up enough to open it and dumped the contents into my hand. It was a small golden locket, engraved with the Highever laurel. Inside was a rose petal, white as the snow surrounding the camp.

"Oh, Alistair." Maybe it was time for me to speak with Wynne about a silencing spell. After this gift, I wasn't about to hold my tongue.

The little voice in my head was screaming at me to get out, and get out fast. _We shouldn't be involving ourselves in the political intrigues of the dwarven realms! Let them chose their own leader! You shouldn't be here!_ Ever since I was a child, I'd hated closed in spaces, they made my head hurt and reminded me of how small I really was, and the Deep Roads were no better. It seemed as though the world was in perpetual twilight and it was starting to strain my archers sight. I was thankful that I could still call an animal to fight by my side.

_ Just think about it, Felyca! This is where you're going to go when you die! Isn't it wonderful! You're going to be another rotting corpse here in thirty some odd years!_

"By the tit's of my Ancestors!" Oghren had proclaimed when we'd entered, and now he was grunting something about Branka, the Paragon we were searching for, being a prime example of a dwarf gone schizoid. The voice was laughing at me as Oghren, Alistair and Shale fought beside me on our way through Ortan Thaig.

_Great, more Darkspawn! _

_ Look at that! Even more Darkspawn! _

_ Are you ever going to get away from them?_

_ SHUT UP!_ I shouted at myself, and finally the voice went silent. I couldn't think, and I could have sworn I heard a voice.

_ Oh, so you're hearing voices now are you? You know that's how it starts..._

_A dwarven voice._

"Broodmother." Hespith called, drawing us closer and closer. The walls around us changed from stone to stone-covered-with-rotting-flesh and made my skin crawl. We rounded the corner, and there she was in all her disgusting glory. My stomach roiled as I watched her writhe against the stone and what appeared to be not one but several, it looked like they were male, darkspawn.

_Forget dying, you could become THAT!_ The voice laughed again, sounding like fingernails against fresh cut steel. I ducked my head and charged forward, ignoring the horrified looks from my companions... well, the one who could understand what my feelings were anyway.

_ So this is why there aren't many women in the Grey Wardens. Interesting; Felyca have you even considered how it would feel to be continually raped by Darkspawn for the rest of your life? Oh wait! Even better! What it would feel like, knowing that the children you birthed would only ever be darkspawn? How delightful!_

I dodged the tentacles that lashed up from the flesh on the floor and slipped on the mush. I fell hard on my back and found myself staring up into the glazed eyes of the beast. We watched each other like that for what felt like hours, but I'm sure was only seconds, before a long well-armored leg between us, kicking the beast in the face. I felt stony hands grab my shoulders and yank me away as a flash of metal entered my field of vision. Once back on my feet, I readied Spear Thrower with one of the few specialty arrows I had and let it fly.

The shaft was of finely welded silverite ore, perfectly straight and while heavier than other wooden arrows, they were crafted by some of the finest in the Smith Caste and flew as fast as any other. My aim was true, and the arrow entered Broodmother's gaping mouth. I heard the satisfying clink as it passed through her skull and hit the stone wall behind her. Her body bucked as the arrow struck and then fell limp as blood poured from the two wounds.

_Right... I'm not going behind her to fetch that arrow. _

_ Yeah... She can keep it._

My companions cleared the room of the remaining frustrated Darkspawn, but I fell to my knees and stared in shock. Broodmother was slumped forward, her blood a thickly congealed mess on the floor below her, her multiple breasts slouching and the tentacles that were once waving manically now lay across the floor. "I am dying of something worse than death... betrayal." I could hear Hespith saying something above us, but I wasn't listening anymore. All I could focus on was the gruesome sight before me. I fought it or tried to anyway, but in the end I couldn't hold it in. The small meal we'd had in a secluded corner of the thaig reappeared on the floor in front of me, and didn't stop coming until my body wracked with dry heaves.

It was Alistair that held my shoulders as I swallowed bile and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. I was about to look back up when he put a strong hand on the back of my head and hissed, "Don't... don't look at it. You'll just lose whatever you haven't already." He picked me up easily with one hand, my weaponry in his other and hauled me bodily out of the cavern. He found a suitable place and settled me down on a boulder just tall enough that he could kneel in front of me and watch my face. He sent Oghren and Shale ahead of us to keep watch as he produced a cleaner handkerchief to wipe my mouth. "Well, I suppose that answers **that** question." I looked at him, only half seeing him. My mind was still reeling with the giggles of the voice in my head.

"What question?" I gasped, reaching for the small waterskin I'd brought along and swishing out my mouth.

He half grinned, "Why there aren't many women in the Grey Wardens." I looked at him sharply, not sure if I should laugh. Or if I even wanted to.

I shook my head and smiled, "You are incorrigible, you know that right?"

He smiled broadly, "So I've been told." He tucked a finger under my chin and made me look into his eyes, "Are you going to be okay?"

I bit my lip, and nodded. He bobbed his head and stood, pulling me to my feet with him. His arms quickly tightened around me in a hug and I returned it. But as we continued on our way I couldn't stop thinking about it. After few more treacherous hours of eliminating more and more Darkspawn, I called for a rest, fitting all of us in a small alcove just above the Dead Trenches.

"Alistair." he didn't look at me, focusing rather intently on his sword and removing the darkspawn blood that coated it. I bit my lip, "Alistair, please. I need to talk to you."

He set his jaw and finally looked up at me, refusal in his eyes. "Yes?"

I swallowed hard, "I need you to promise me something."

He smirked, "Anything for you, dear one."

I glanced at my hands, which were fiddling with Spear Thrower, "I need you to promise me that you'll kill me."

The color drained from his face, clearly he didn't understand, "You want **me** to **kill** you? Whatever for!" I held up my hand holding Zevran's dagger and offered it to him. He shook his head and held up his hands in surrender, "No! I'm not touching that."

I hung my head and sighed, "Alistair. I don't want to become a Broodmother, not after I've fought all this way to stop the Blight. I'm not saying right now, but when..." I took a shuddering breath, "When my turn for the Calling comes, I want you to swear to me that you'll kill me. That you won't let me..." His hand clasped over mine, almost crushing it against the dagger.

"I won't be around, love. Remember? I've been a Warden for longer than you, the most likely outcome will be that I hear my Calling first."

I shook my head, "I know that! But just in case..." I couldn't find the words I wanted to say.

His grip on my hand shifted and he removed the dagger from my hand. Turning the dagger perpendicular to the ground, he knelt in front of me and looked up at me, perfectly serious, "I swear to you, my lady, that you will not become a Broodmother."

I took the dagger and replaced it on my belt, "Thank you, Ser Knight. You don't know what that means to me."

As he stood he wrapped his arms around my waist, and whispered in my ear, "But I ask a promise in return, my lady fair. That when your calling comes, you take me with you."

I put my hand against his breastplate and turned my face into his neck, "I so swear, Ser Knight."

* * *

_"And then it was done, and Bhelen was made king. I chose him for his resolve at pulling Orzammar forward. And there was just something in his eyes that told me no matter what he'd done in the past, he was the right choice... the only real choice I had." Felyca took a slow breath, turning around and watching the healers tent, where Alistair now stood, his head hanging low and his foot kicking at the dirt as he waited for news about her body. "Let me talk to him, please. Let me tell him that I'm alright?" her voice was pleading, but the mage heard none of it. Urthemiel watched her as she stared at the weaker man. A human, a Grey Warden, a king. These things he could understand. But what he could offer her was so much more. He offered her a place among the gods._

_

* * *

_

_ A run-down temple hidden beneath the snow and ice of the Frostback Mountains? No wonder no one has been able to find the blasted thing. _

_ Right... Andraste's risen? Why don't I believe you?_

_ You're crazy, you know that right, old man? _

_ I think you should just kill him and get this over with._

_ That's a very, very, very large dragon, Felyca. And just how do you propose to kill it? Your little arrows won't feel like much more than a mosquito bite on that hide._

_ No, wait... Alistair, don't just..._

_ I suppose that works, you'll have to try that next time, Felyca._

"You abandoned your father and mother to Arl Rendon Howe, knowing that he would show no mercy. Do you think you failed your parents?"

I sucked in my breath, "How do you know my past, Guardian?"

He smiled gently, "Your history is before me, in the lines on your face and the scars on your heart. The question remains, do you think you failed your parents?"

My heart was racing, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think. My mind reeled with unvoiced emotion and my own fears. I looked at the floor, trying hard not to cry. _Do you think you failed your parents?_ My breath caught in my throat, "Yes." I looked back up at him, feeling the tears roll down my face, "Yes, I failed them. I should have stayed to defend them, I should have made my mother come with me, I should have woken earlier to save Oriana and Oren, I shouldn't even have gone to bed at all. I should have stayed with my father, I could have helped him fight off Howe's soldiers. I could have insisted that Ser Gilmore follow me, I should have done a lot of things. Do I think I failed them? No, I _**know**_ I failed all of them." By the end of my rant my chest was heaving and I was sobbing openly. I rubbed at my cheeks with the back of my hand and sniffed, closing my eyes, trying to ignore the stares I was feeling on my back.

Alistair was just behind me to my right and I heard him whisper, "You're too hard on yourself, nobody's perfect." I wanted to believe him, I should have believed him, but I just shook my head. The guardian went through my companions, asking each of them a question just as gut wrenching as mine. I heard it all, and ignored it all. I knew Alistair wanted to be with Duncan at Ostagar, I could understand Leliana's wanting attention at the Chantry, even if she believed her vision, and I knew that Sten had never made light of the murders he'd committed to be jailed. But this cut deep. I'd failed my blood.

Ghost after ghost asked me a riddle, and ghost after ghost got the answer. I watched their mist fly away down the great hall to a grand carved door. As I answered the last, I smiled to Leliana and tried to laugh. She smiled at me and we turned to make it through the doors when my feet stopped moving. A shadowy figure stood in the doorway, dressed in fine clothes and standing with a sense of command of not only itself and those around it. I could just make out the familiar set of those shoulders. "Father?" I whispered, my heart stopped beating. The ghost raised its head, and that beloved smile came across his face, "Father!" I gasped, stumbling to him. I made it to the doorway before I regained my senses and froze in place. "Father..."

"My dearest child." It was his voice, the voice that had soothed me as a youngster as I'd come crawling into his bed at night, terrified of the monsters lurking underneath my bed. The voice that had sung soft lullabies as I fell asleep in front of the fire, that had taught me how to wield a sword.

But I could see right through him.

My heart dropped again, "Why must you torment me like this!" I hissed, and the look on the ghosts face fell slightly.

"There is no torment that we could come up with that could rival that which you inflict upon yourself. You must mourn no more, my child. You have to be strong, there is so much ahead of you that you must be ready for." He gave me a pendant, cut in the shape of a lily. Four petals spread in a fan shape, made of a glazed glass and the stem tinted green. It was the same as the one my mother would wear on special occasions, one that I'd always admired and wanted for myself. The ghost raised a hand to my chin, making me look at him one more time, "I love you, pup, and I will always be proud of you."

I fell to my knees as he disappeared, clutching the pendant to my chest and letting the tears hit the ground. "Daddy..."


	12. Meanwhile 3

_ "There, that's my story. Now, will you let me speak to my friends?" She rested her fists against her hips and stared at the mage. _

_ The mage crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at her, "Really? That's it? After that you came for the city and you killed me? Somehow I doubt it was as simple as that." He took a few careful steps towards her, and watched her closely, "Tell me the rest. Tell me about Howe... and about becoming the Queen of Ferelden."_

_ Felyca set her jaw, "You seem to know a lot already. Why should I tell you anything more? I've said it before and I don't like having to repeat myself, let me tell them that I'm alright!" The world around them seemed to solidify and Felyca felt a pull on her abdomen, almost like she'd been hooked on a fishing line. "Ugh." she grunted, her feet slipping on the Fade image of the ground and pulling her towards the healers tent. _

_ She could hear Wynne's voice calling her through the Fade, echoing around her. "Felyca. Felyca, sweetheart, can you hear me? I know you're in there..."_

_ She smirked at the mage and was turning around to leave when he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight against his chest. "NO!" His shout shook the ground and she felt the hook in her stomach tighten as Wynne fought against him. _

_ "Let me go! Please... She's calling to me, let me go!" Felyca's arms and legs started swinging wildly, connecting with the mages face and legs. "Wynne! Wynne help me! I can't... let me go! Wynne tell... get Alistair..." _

_ He grunted then threw her to the ground, "No, she's not leaving!"_

_ He thrust his hands forward and Felyca felt a cutting sensation in her belly. The pull from Wynne lessened, then completely snapped. Felyca heard Wynne cry out as she was most likely thrown back from her connection to Felyca's body, and flipped herself into a standing position. "Let me go..." she hissed, taking several steps backwards. _

_ The mage glared at her, "No. I won't. Not until you finish your story." Felyca felt her heart sink. Her friends had better think of something soon, otherwise this crazy mage would kill her._

_ And any death in the Fade was permanent._

* * *

Oghren swung his battleaxe wide, burying it deep in the wood of one of the few standing trees in the camp and sat down hard on the ground. He'd heard Wynne's shout from the healers tent and the soft thud from her landing in the dirt. He shook his head and stroked his beard, knowing that there wasn't anything he could do for Felyca... not now, anyway and it made him angry. She'd done so much for him. She'd freed him from a life of misery with Branka, reunited him with Felsi – perhaps the only being other than Felyca that would tolerate his presence – and had given him back his honor as a dwarf. He watched as Wynne hurried from the tent, her face drained of color and into Alistair's. He glanced at the elf waiting by the doorway, forced from the tent when Wynne had emerged. Sodding Blight, it made everything shift hard right when all he wanted to do was keep going straight.

Wynne was on her way back to Felyca as his vision blurred, the pain from the wound on his leg finally catching up with him. A healer mage was just passing by, a simple ivory gown in his hands, when Oghren hissed. "Are you alright, Dwarf?" he asked, stopping mid-stride.

Oghren shook his head, "See to the Warden." he waved to the mage, wanting him to move on when the mage dropped to one knee in front of him and shooed Oghren's hands away.

"Let me look at it." He was too weak to argue, and let the mage look over the deep cut on his shin. "You should get to a healer right away," the mage was saying, "If you don't this is likely to get infected."

Oghren grunted and glared at the mage, "Dwarves are highly resistant to magic, remember? Or didn't you know that, mage?"

The man kneeling scowled and stood back up, "I don't have time for this." he reached into his pocket and tossed him a healing potion, "Swallow all of that, then make it over to the healers tent. Resistance or not, you're going to need some help."

Oghren grunted again, then pointed to the gown in the mage's hands, "What's that fer?"

The elven mage looked down at the gown then looked back to Oghren, "It's for the Warden." he said, his voice changing.

Oghren's face darkened and he gripped the hilt of his axe, "You'd best let Leliana or Wynne be the one's changing her, elf. That woman's gonna be your queen."

The elf's brow wrinkled, "What are you... You wouldn't think that I..."

Oghren stood, even though he was shorter than the elf, his stance was intimidating, "Ya heard me. Leave it to Leliana or Wynne. Even that assassin would be better than someone like you." The mage scoffed, turned around to leave, then glanced back over his shoulder at him.

"I'll have Wynne change her dress."

Oghren humphed, then downed the potion, "Good. Now get me some ale and bandages. I can take care of myself." The last place that he wanted to be right now was that tent, with Felyca dying on a cot beside him.

"Denerim is the heart and soul of Ferelden." she told him as they rode in the wagon to the capital, "It was the city of King Calenhad, and the birthplace of Andraste. She's as stubborn as a mabari, and as good to have on your side. If we defeat Loghain here, the rest of the nation will follow us."

He'd been confused, "And how do you plan on defeating him? No offense Warden, you're good but even you can't beat a war hero."

The Arl had been sitting across from them, and chuckled, "By calling the Landsmeet, it's similar to the Assembly but more effective, I've struck the first blow. The advantage, for the moment, is ours. Loghain will have little choice but to show himself, to oppose us, directly."

She nodded, "And that is where I want him. Where I can know what he's doing, and not worrying about some backhand politics that might get us all killed. He will strike back at us, however the only question is..."

"How soon."

She said she wasn't nervous, but Oghren knew her well enough to know that she was lying. He would see her hands shaking as she spoke things over with the Arl or Alistair, or even Wynne. He shouldn't have been surprised when the regent came to see them, but he was. Felyca was agitated more than usual and it bothered him. He followed her into the receiving hall, standing back from the group and watching her carefully. Zevran stood next to him, barely concealed in shadow, "Who's that?"

"Loghain! This is... an honor! That the regent would find time to greet me personally..." Eamon said, although refusing to offer his hand to shake.

It was a small insult, but an insult nonetheless. Loghain was having none of it, "How could I not call on a man so important as to call every lord in Ferelden away from his estate, while a Blight claws at our land!"

She scoffed and muttered, "The Blight is why _I'm_ here."

Eamon shot her a look, then said, "With Cailan dead, Ferelden must have a king to lead it against the darkspawn."

"Ferelden has a strong leader, it's queen! And **I** lead her armies!"

Felyca snorted, and crossed her arms, ready for the fight to come, "Considering Ostagar, perhaps we need a better general."

Loghain's eyes snapped to her, and he snarled, "And who is this? Some new stray you've picked up on the road? And here I thought it was only royal bastards you played the nursemaid to, old man."

Alistair muttered behind their back as she tightened her shoulders and looked at Loghain, unwavering, "I am Felyca Cousland, Teyrn of Highever." Loghain's eyes flashed, and Felyca's hand twitched, a sure sign that she was itching for a fight.

The man with Loghain spoke, "The Couslands are dead. The Teyrn of Highever belongs to the Howes, and rightfully so." Howe watched Felyca carefully, his face a vile mask. Felyca growled in her throat, it sounded ominously like the cry of a Hurlock.

"I demand blood rights! This man murdered my family!"

Howe smirked at her, "You have no rights. Your family surrendered them when I revealed them to be traitors to the king. And now, I am the arl of Amaranthine, teyrn of Highever and the current arl of Denerim, after Uriens unfortunate fate at Ostagar. It really is an embarrassment of riches." He was taunting her, and Oghren knew it.

_ Go on, Warden. Gut him... I'll help if you need it, gut him like the fish we ate last night!_

Felyca took a menacing step forward, her right hand only inches from the dagger Zevran had given her, "Enjoy your moment, Howe, for it will not last long. Do you really think that you can slander my family to my face!"

The woman who was with Loghain raised her sword between them, "You are either very bold or very stupid to threaten the teyrn before witnesses."

Felyca tore her gaze away from Howe and growled at the woman, "I threaten no teyrn. I threaten an upstart who thinks that through murder he can increase his family's stature. I have rights, witnesses or no. Blood rights granted to me by the last king of Ferelden, Cailan Theirin. And you'd best not be so openly against a Grey Warden."

Loghain stumbled slightly, "A Grey Warden? You have my sympathies on what happened to your order, it is unfortunate that they chose to turn against Ferelden."

Felyca snarled, her hand twitching even more now, making Alistair step forward, his fingers just brushing her arm. "We have come to reveal your crimes at Ostagar," he hissed.

Loghain reared at that, and stepped closer to the two of them. "You should curb your tongue! This is my city and no safe place to speak treason." he glowered at Alistair, "For anyone." Felyca drew a deep breath, watching Loghain closely as he began to pace in front of the group.

"There is talk that your illness left you feeble, Eamon. Some worry that you would no longer be fit to advise Ferelden."

It was Eamon's turn to be angry, "Illness? Why not call your poison by it's true name? Not everyone at the Landsmeet will cast aside their loyalties as easily as you and these... sycophants."

Loghain bristled, then took a slow breath, "Enough. This is not the time nor the place. I had hoped to talk you down from this rash course, Eamon. Our people are frightened! Our king is dead and our land is under siege! We must be united now if we are to endure this crisis. Your own sister, Queen Rowan, fought tirelessly to see Ferelden restored! Would you see her work destroyed? You divide our nation and weaken our efforts against the Blight, with your selfish ambitions to the throne."

Felyca put her hands on her hips and stood at her full height, "You're the one who divided Ferelden."

Loghain sneered at her, "I was not talking to you." He turned just enough that his back was to her, and Oghren could see her hand had begun again it's subtle twitch. _Just one good throw, Felyca. Just one knife at his shoulder where the armors weakest, and you'll have one less enemy._ He thought, silently encouraging her. But she didn't move, and Loghain continued to rant.

Eamon shook his head, "I cannot forgive what you've done Loghain. Perhaps the Maker can, but not I. Our people deserve a king of the Theirin bloodline. Alistair will be the one to lead us to victory in this Blight."

Alistair balked, "Ah, is that all I have to do?"

Felyca grinned, "No pressure."

Loghain ignored them and stepped close to Eamon, "The Emperor of Orlais also thought I could not bring him down. Expect no more mercy than I showed him. There is nothing I would not do for my homeland." Then he turned on his heel, and marched out. Felyca watched him go, but as soon as the door was closed, her hand snapped up and she flung the jeweled dagger at the door. The blade embedded itself where Howe's head had been only seconds before.

"Well," said Eamon, watching her closely, "That was bracing. I didn't expect Loghain to show himself quite so soon."

Felyca nodded, then looked at the Arl, "Howe murdered my family. I cannot let him get away with it."

Eamon smiled, "I wouldn't ask you too. Calling the Landsmeet is only the start, now we must ensure that every noble there sees Loghain's duplicity. We have no small task ahead of us. We need eyes and ears in the city, Loghain has been here for months. The roots of all his schemes must begin here. The sooner we find them, the sooner we can turn them to our advantage." she nodded, it made sense to Oghren. "Take some time to cool off, I'll see what strategies I can get together." Felyca nodded, watching the dagger in the door.

Eamon walked to his study then and Felyca stalked over to the door and yanked out the knife. Oghren watched her lower her head, thinking. Out of nowhere, the assassin appeared at her side, whispering something. Felyca nodded, but before Zevran could get away, she grabbed his arm and hissed just loud enough for all of them to hear, "Don't kill him, Zev. I want that particular pleasure myself." The elf nodded, then disappeared from sight, no doubt going after Howe. To keep an eye on him.

They'd been in Denerim for almost two whole weeks now, Felyca said that they were waiting for the last of the nobility to arrive for the Landsmeet. She would wander the estate at all hours of the night, when not being 'entertained' by Alistair in his chambers; at other times hiding in the corners of the library, curled into a chair with a candle by her head, poring over the contents of one large book after another. While during the day she would spend hours in the training salle with any one of their company, learning new techniques and teaching them her own secrets. And then at other times she would simply sit in one of the great bay windows overlooking the city, her feet tucked up beneath her and her eyes gazing out over the rooftops, like today.

"There you are! I was thinking, we've been through a lot together now... We're like old war buddies."

She raised an eyebrow at him, and he felt proud of himself for drawing her attention away from the grand vista. "War buddies?" she asked, turning slightly so as to let him sit next to her on the bench.

He twirled the flask in his hand, "Yeah... war buddies. So I figured why not invite you to share a drink? A drink from my own stash, my family's recipe and dedicated to my comrades in arms." He glanced at the flask, then looked at her face.

She hesitated, but only for a moment, then reached for the flask, "Alright. Let me try this legendary brew." He handed it to her, and watched her take a great swallow. Then he waited, closing the flask and taking several steps backwards. She brought a hand to her forehead, her expression surprised, and then she slipped from the bench and onto the floor, her head swimming from the high concentration of alcohol in her stomach.

He squatted near her, not too close knowing he hadn't bathed in a proper month, and waited. She lay there for almost an hour before she shook herself, and got into a slightly reclined position. He laughed, "How do you feel?"

She looked at him, curious, "Great! Got any more?"

He shook his head, smiling, "Oh no. The rest is for me! You'd need to do something really unspeakable to get into the rest of my stash." he stood and kicked at the ground, "I, uh, I just wanted to tell you, after all we've been through, you're like family to me. Closest thing I've had in years."

She smiled softly, getting to her knees, "Oddly enough, I feel the same way, Oghren... I've missed having a brother."

Oghren smiled, "Thanks I uh... I just thought I'd let you know since..."

She put a hand on his cheek and smiled, "Don't worry, I won't spread it around, you ol' softie." His face had flamed, and he trotted away, passing Zevran on his way out.

* * *

Zevran perched on the top of the collapsed tower and let his eyes scan the layout of the fallen city around him. Wynne had sent him after Leliana and Alistair had sent her after Morrigan, and Morrigan had disappeared after the battle. A hopeless quest, he knew, but one that had to be done. He pulled himself higher up the towers column, the angle just perfect for him to reach the inner city walls. Inside these were the upper class homes, grand estates with miniature castles and cultivated gardens that gave the illusion of living in the country even in the center of a great city. The smell that wafted over him was tinged with smoke and burned flesh, but behind it all were the fragrance of the salt of the sea and the gentle brush of flowers. He closed his eyes and took a careful sniff, then took a twirling leap into the air, landing next to a smoking pile of rubble. There was a small boy on the other side, his face smudged with dirt and tears.

He didn't have time for this, he knew that, but there was something about this boy... "Why are you crying?" Zevran asked, watching the boy carefully.

The boy, not much older than seven or eight years old, wiped at his face and took a shaky breath, "My Momma... she was standing right here when..." he started bawling again, and Zevran swallowed. He knew what _he_ would normally do for this boy and he knew what _Felyca_ would do.

Shaking his head against his better judgment, Zevran found himself putting an arm around the boys shoulders, "Could your mother be somewhere else in the city?"

The boy shook his head, "She told me to run and I did... but when I came back she... she was...g-g-gone!" The boy started wailing all over again, and tucked his head into Zevran's chest.

Zevran didn't know what to do about it, but he knew what Felyca would do. Taking a slow breath, he lifted the boys face to look at him and said, "Come with me. We'll look for your mother together. Is there somewhere she would have run to if she got into trouble?"

The boy nodded, "My aunties. It's not far from here, and my auntie should still be there." Zevran nodded and helped the boy stand, brushing off the boys pants.

The boy sniffed again and wiped his nose on his hand, making Zevran smile, "Here." he said, handing the boy a small kerchief, "Wipe your face. We can't have you going to your Aunts looking like this!"

The boy smiled at him, "Thanks mister." he said, blowing his nose and cleaning off his cheeks. He was about to hand it back when Zevran refused it, "Keep it. I've got others." the boy shrugged and tucked the kerchief in a pocket. "What's your name, boy?"

"Howe. Joseph Howe. My Uncle Rendon was the arl of Denerim."

"I couldn't quite make it into the estate itself, but I can tell you this. He is heavily guarded and it will be hard to get to him."

Felyca was nodding, standing with her arms crossed, staring out a window that afforded the best view of the palace district. "But it isn't impossible." she whispered, turning to look at him.

The former Crow grinned and shook his head, "No not impossible. Just not easy."

Felyca nodded again, bringing a finger to her lips as she mulled it over. "I better go to talk to the Arl, maybe he can help me think of something... someway to get into the castle."

They'd left an hour later, led by an elf named Erlina, they made their way into the Arl of Denerim's estate. He could see the look on Felyca's face, knew the determination that she had set her jaw with. He knew it. They weren't leaving here without the death of Arl Howe. Erlina lead them – Felyca, Zevran, Sten and Morrigan – through the castles main gate, and hid them behind a wagon as she explained, "The servants entrance is on the other side of the house and we'll have to slip past this crowd to reach it. We'll have to be careful, Arl Howe is inside."

Felyca glanced at Zevran, a smirk on her face, "Howe is here?"

The elf maiden had looked frightened, "Please! You cannot put my lady at risk for your own vengeance!"

Felyca had given the maid a fierce look, then gripped Zevran's arm. "Once we're inside, can you stealth in and find him?"

He'd nearly laughed at the very suggestion, "My dear Warden, are you thinking that I cannot do even that?" She just looked at him carefully, and he bowed grandly, "As I have vowed, I am your man to command. I will find this Howe for you."

Felyca nodded slowly, her eyes turning cold as steel, "Just locate him, and make sure he stays put. I don't want him escaping."

Zevran grinned wickedly, "Can I use chains?"

She stifled a giggle as they walked around the castle, "Use whatever means you deem necessary, Zev. Just keep him alive until I get there."

They changed into their disguises as Erlina distracted the guards, and Zevran couldn't help but admire again the smooth lines that were Felyca's body. She was just pulling on the mail skirt when she noticed that he was watching her. "What?" she asked, half laughing as he raised his eyebrows at her, "Oh nothing. I've told you that you are utterly gorgeous, no?"

She snorted, and shook her head, "I believe the phrase you used was deadly sex goddess. And my answer is still no."

"Ah, for shame. However, it will not stop me from trying." she snorted and pulled on her helm, letting it shield her neck from the oppressive sun.

"They're gone." Morrigan whispered, and they hurried inside, closing the door tightly behind them.

"Ugh. It took me forever to be rid of those two! You must be careful now, the servants, they will not look closely at anyone in uniform, all guards are alike to a cook, no?"

Felyca gave the elf a crooked grin, then waved Zevran inside. "Go on, my friend. We'll find the queen, you find Howe." He bowed again to her, then swathed himself in shadow.

He crept down a side hall, listening as the guards spoke of the massacre at Highever, how bad the chef's cooking was and why they had to be in uniform constantly... who would be fool enough to attack the Arl? He chuckled to himself, slipping past a clueless man that was leading a maid into a bedchamber. He was just about to head into the dungeons when he heard a racket behind him, and glanced back to see Felyca throwing a man to the ground and slapping her bow across his chest, pinning him in place. "Say that again, soldier." she growled, and the man threw up his hands, yielding to her.

"I... I am sorry, I didn't mean any harm! It's just that we had to clear the castle and the Arl didn't want them stinking up the place. It was the best thing we could do!" Felyca leaned in close to the soldier and snarled something, making the man shake even more, "Yes! Yes, commander! Right away!" She let him up and the man scurried off, his feet clanking against the stones of the floor as he fled. The other soldiers around the group laughed and some clanked mugs of ale together, in toast to Felyca.

_ Foolish dogs._ Zevran thought, returning to his assigned task. _Little do they know that she could have killed them all, and none of them could have stopped her._

She led the remainder of her group back through the castle and was about to make her way down into the dungeons when he found her. "I've got him hiding in a hallway. Poor bastard thinks there are still elves after him."

She looked at Zevran carefully, "Elves... you mean after the uprising?"

Zevran snorted, "Hardly. That uprising was only elves defending themselves against a lecherous bastard that..."

She held up her hand, stepping closer to him, "Zev, calm down."

"Calm? Calm! You expect me to be calm when I..."

She put her hand over his mouth, "Zev. Show me where I can find him, and I will exact justice, I promise. But right now I need you to focus." He clenched his jaw, then nodded. She led them down the small staircase, and opened the heavy door, spooking a guard.

"What? Who goes there?"

The guard was grabbed from behind and his neck broken, making Felyca step back next to Zevran, readying her bow. The guard was searched by disembodied hands for a key, then dragged into a cell. Felyca was about to step forward to investigate when a man emerged, wearing the guards armor. "I thank you for creating such distraction, stranger. I have been waiting days for the opportunity."

Felyca smiled, "I might first ask who you are."

He bowed slightly, "Of course, forgive my manners. I didn't receive many visitors while imprisoned here. My name is Riordan, senior warden of Jader, but born and bred in Highever and glad I am to be home."

Felyca extended her hand, "How did Howe capture you? I would think that anyone would see him for the retch that he is."

Riordan smirked, "With an offer of hospitality and a poisoned challis. I was fool enough to think that Loghain didn't yet know who I was."

Felyca nodded, "He would be suspicious of anyone with an Orlesian accent, I'm afraid. What are you doing here? When did you arrive?"

Riordan nodded, "For the most part, trying to hold my tongue. I was sent when we received no word form King Cailan as to the outcome at Ostagar. The king had invited all the wardens of Orlais and their support troops to join him, then nothing."

Her face held hope as she asked, "How many troops did you bring with you!"

Riordan sighed, not a good sign. "We had two hundred Wardens and two dozens division of cavalry. The first we heard of Loghain's edict was when everyone was turned back at the border. That's when the rumor reached us that Wardens were being blamed for the massacre. We finally decided it was safest to send someone alone, to learn how best to fight the Blight and this regime simultaneously. As a native Ferelden, I volunteered to make the crossing."

Felyca bit her lip, "I was afraid that might happen. Will we have no help then?"

Riordan shook his head, "The other Wardens won't risk their strength fighting Ferelden's civil war. If they spend themselves against Loghain, there is truly no hope. They recall accounts of the first Blight, how many cities fell. If Ferelden is too foolish to save itself, at least we'll be ready when the Archdemon leads it's forces further." he smiled at her, "Besides, I hear you haven't being doing badly at raising an army yourself." Felyca's mouth opened then closed, her mind churning as he continued, "But perhaps if the edict can be lifted... I will send a message as soon as we are gone from this place."

Felyca tilted her head, "Why don't you come with me?"

He shook his head, "I wouldn't be much use to you in my current condition. And if you'll pardon me, I've a sudden desire to breathe some free air."

She smiled faintly, "I understand. We have been staying at Arl Eamon's estate, it's just off the marketplace. Tell him you're with me and he'll have your wounds seen to. Ask for Wynne, she is one of my companions and an excellent healer."

He bowed, "I will seek you out later... and good luck, sister."

Zevran watched her face register surprise, compassion, then respect as the elder warden left the dungeon. Then she caught Zevran's eye and winked, "Come on. I've got a murderer to find."

He tilted his head, "This way."

He fought by her side through the guards and torturers in their way, and watched in awe as she kicked open the last door between her and Howe. "Well, well. Bryce Couslands little spitfire! All grown up and still playing the man. I never thought you'd bee fool enough to turn up here. Then again, I never thought you'd live, either."

Her face became a twisted snarl as she spat, "Glad to disappoint you. It won't be the last time."

"This cannot still be about your family! I have done so much more than wipe your name from Ferelden memory! And what's left? A fool husk of a daughter, likely to end her days dying under a rock in the Deep Roads. I thought Loghain made it clear that your pathetic family is gone and forgotten. Even the Wardens are gone! You are the last of nothing and this is pointless."

Felyca brought her bow into play, an arrow notched and ready, "You lie, Howe. Regrettably, to yourself most of all. I am Felyca Anne Cousland, the Grey Warden, and after your death, I will see to it that your wife and children receive no better treatment than you gave my family." Howe scoffed, his attention fully on Felyca, letting Zevran slip around behind his guard.

"Your parents died on their knees, your brother's corpse rots in Ostagar and his brat was burned on the scrap heap along with his Antivan whore of a wife. You want me to regret what I created in you? Let me show you how it's done. I made your mother kiss my feet before she died, and it was the last thing that your father saw." Her arrow was released, burying itself in the throat of a nearby mage. As the body fell to the floor, Zevran deftly stepped around it and waited, knowing that if he wanted to make this work, he'd need Felyca's signal.

"I know your game, Howe. Let us end this, no shadows, no lies. Just you and me."

Howe growled, "There it is. Right there! That damned look in the eyes that marked every Cousland success that held me back. It would appear that you've made something of yourself after all. Your father would be proud. I, on the other hand, want you dead now more than ever." He made to lunge at her, but found himself frozen in place as Zevran's paralysis poison kicked in. He was forced to watch as their party made quick work of his remaining guard, saving his sorry soul for last.

Felyca stalked forward, Leliana and Sten watching the door as she moved towards him, looking very much like a cat about to pounce on its catch. "You are not worthy to speak of my father, my mother or my brother. Oriana and Oren were innocents, they knew nothing of fighting and war." she unclipped her quiver, letting it clunk loudly on the floor with her bow. "You killed the Lady Landra, a visitor to the castle, along with her handmaid, Iona, and her son, Dairren. It is because of you that Ser Gilmore wasn't given the chance to become a Warden, something he truly deserved and would surely have become." She was standing toe to toe with the man now, and Zevran couldn't help but smile as she gripped the hilt of her family's sword and twirled it around her body in the manner which he'd taught her. Howes face finally changed, the poison was weakening. "Ah! So you do have feelings. Such a shame that you won't live long enough to use them." She brought the point of the blade just beneath his chin, forcing his head back. "Just tell me this Howe, is nobility a right? Or a privilege?"

Howe opened his mouth, "Maker spit on you! I deserved... more!" The sword dropped, replaced by the knife she kept sheathed on her wrist. She brought it up through his chin and into his brain, instantly killing him. His eyes rolled back and blood flowed down her arm, the bright red a stark contrast to her pale skin.

"It's a privilege, you faithless leech." She pulled the blade from his body and wiped it on his clothing, the poison wearing off enough that his corpse fell to the floor. "You deserve nothing."


	13. Fort Drakon

Fort Drakon. It was built to be a maze and was nigh unto impossible to escape from. I looked up at the tall tower as I was dragged through the front gate. Ser Cauthrien had a strong grip and her hands were holding onto one of my arms as she shouted at one of the guards. "Let us through! We caught the Grey Warden trying to kidnap the queen!" I heard the grating of metal against stone as the gate was raised and the shouts of men as I was half carried, half dragged into the imposing building. "Put her in the lower dungeon, with the other filth."

Someone shouted, while others shouted obscenities that not even Zevran would have repeated. Let alone called me. I was shown to the captain of the fort compliment, an older man with salt and pepper hair that had an intimidating face and a fierce growl as he spoke to me, "You tried to what?"

"I was sent to... rescue the queen." I was exhausted from my fight with Cauthrine and then the struggle I'd given while I was being brought here. I was only grateful that my friends were able to get away. Surely Zevran was already planning a way to help me escape, and hopefully he wouldn't bring Alistair along. Wouldn't that just be peachy? Bring the bastard prince right into Loghain's center of control! It sure would hinder our efforts to put him on the throne. I was handed over to a group of guards, the men looked like they wanted nothing to do with me and only grabbed my arms when it looked as though I would fall.

The man in front of me snarled and shook his head, "Get her out of my sight." They were beginning to carry me off when he took a second glance at my armor and held out his hand. "Wait!" The guards holding me stopped moving and the captain forced me to my feet. "You're not just a Grey Warden, are you." I bit my tongue and stared at him. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and shook my head, my helm was in the slimy grip of one of the soldiers nearby. "Aren't you!" My jaw clenched and I continued to stay silent. His eyes roved over me, taking in the state of my armor and my fine weaponry. "You're no common prisoner." his eyes caught sight of the family sword hidden in my quiver and he pulled it out, nearly chopping my head off in the process. He looked at the crest on the pommel then leaned in close to me, his nose a hairs breadth from mine, "Your not only a Grey Warden, you're a Cousland!" Silence fell around the yard as the soldiers absorbed what he'd just shouted in my face. I kept my expression blank, but my heart was beginning to race. The captain pulled back on my hair, making me hiss in pain and he grinned, "Yes, I see it now. You're Bryce Cousland's little baby girl! I never would have guessed that you'd grow up to be a Grey Warden, of all things." He released me and my head bobbed. I could feel the beginnings of a massive headache starting from where he'd grabbed me. My knees started to give out and it forced the pair holding me to tighten their grip in my arms. The captain just kept laughing, "A Cousland, in my fort!" He shook his head, I couldn't tell if he was happy or... worse. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and barked at the two holding me, "Take her to Howe's cell. He'll want to get to work right away on her."

The men holding me nodded and started carrying me away when I heard Cauthrine say behind me, "Rendon Howe's dead. She killed him."

"WAIT!" the captain shouted again, and the guards stopped. I hesitated for a second, then let my full weight drop into their arms. Neither were ready for it and I was allowed to fall to the ground, my fresh wounds beginning to ooze blood again. I closed my eyes and let myself drift away on the pain. I didn't want to hear anymore, I didn't care anymore. All I knew was that I hurt... a lot.

I woke up because I was freezing, stripped down to my smallclothes and my head pounding. "Ugh." I said, rolling onto my side. The room I was in was small and had bars on three of its sides. I was in a cell and the screams I was hearing from behind me were the higher pitch of frightened women and men in pain. I forced myself to my knees and crawled away from the door, not caring who might see me. I wanted to get away from the door.

"You look a lot different than when I last saw you." said a voice, making me freeze in my slow movement across the cell. I painfully raised my head and scanned the room for the speaker. Blast but the light was so dim. The other person gave a soft chuckle, then hissed in pain. Obviously whomever it was had some broken ribs. "I knew you'd escaped. When they'd brought me here they said that you'd died along with your father, but I knew you too well to believe that."

_Escaped... _my breath was coming quicker, "Gilmore? Ser Gilmore, is that you?"

He laughed again, this time pulling himself forward into the dismal lighting filtering through the cell bars. "Aye, my lady. It's me, although I must say, I would have preferred to be fully dressed for this reunion." I choked on a laugh, my own ribs bruised. I wouldn't have been surprised if someone told me later that a few had been broken. He was in a back corner of the cell, opposite the free wall and the furthest corner from the door. I changed my direction just enough to get close to him but slipped on something thick and grimy on the floor. I fell face down into it, and hurriedly pushed myself back from it, gasping in horror.

"Careful, my lady." he whispered, his face registering pain as he watched me, "I'm afraid I couldn't control where I bled."

I looked at him in shock, "Howe's special chambers... they're torture chambers aren't they?" He nodded and I was finally close enough to see how deathly pale he was. He too was down to his smallclothes, but they were so soiled with blood and sweat that he might have been better off just going without them. His chest was crisscrossed with scars and welts from whips. "Oh, Ser Gilmore. What did they do to you?" My voice was soft, as though I already knew he was going to die.

He smiled gently, raising a hand to my cheek and brushing back a few strands of hair, "Tell me, did you become a Grey Warden?"

I smiled at him, letting him cup my cheek in his hand. "Yes, I did."

His lips curled upwards, "That's good. You deserve it, you're no ordinary woman. Easily the equal of any man on the field or off." I closed my eyes, it was the same thing he'd said to me when I'd wondered if I was even worth testing.

"My lady..." he was trying to sit up, and I put my hands on his shoulders, holding him in place.

"No, don't." I was still talking in that hushed tone, "Stay where you are. Let me protect you for once."

He chuckled, and it sounded wetter than normal, "I'm afraid that soon enough you'll be protecting a corpse." the hand on my cheek started to fall and I grabbed it, holding it in place.

I turned my head into his palm and kissed his hand, "No. Remember? No one dies while I'm in command." He rolled his head from side to side, "You might not have a choice this time, my lady..."

I put a finger to his lips, "Don't... we're too good of friends to still be calling each other by title. Please... call me Felyca."

His eyes went wide, as though I'd just committed a great sacrilege, "No, my lady. I couldn't..."

I gave him one of my looks, my head still pounding with my headache, "I'm in no mood to argue right now Roderick." He sucked in his breath sharply at my casual use of his name, "Please." He stared at me for an agonizing amount of time, the sounds of tortured screams and the maniacal laughter of the guards echoing around us. The grinding of wood on wood as someone was pulled on the rack, the slam of a metal door somewhere off in the distance. His eyes were glued to mine as he thought it over, his hand growing cold on my skin. "Roderick, please. Just say my name."

In all his years of service to my father, I had never admitted it, but I had adored this man. He was the consummate soldier. Always there to take command when needed, willing to obey orders and knew what orders to disobey when they conflicted with his morals. If it had been this man at Loghain's side and not Cauthrine, perhaps the king would have lived at Ostagar. Perhaps Duncan would have survived... perhaps I wouldn't have felt so alone in this world that hated me. He took a slow breath, and whispered, "Felyca... Lady Felyca." I smiled, I'd take it. My name sounded so wonderful rolling across his lips like that.

His fingers started to shake and I let his hand drop, bending over him, "What is it? What can I do?" He smiled at me, then shook his head.

"We both know I'm dying, Felyca." He shivered against the stone and I ran my hands over his arms and torso, trying to holding him. "It's a poison. Howe made me drink it when I was out last. It's been killing me slowly for the last few days." He stopped shaking and I held his gaze, "He wanted to know about you Felyca. About where you would go for help, if you were alive." He raised his hand again, his fingers trying to rub away some of the blood on my face. "I didn't tell him anything, my lady love. I wouldn't betray you." Tears were rolling freely down my cheeks now, my heart hammering in my chest. He smiled at me, running his thumb over my cheeks, "Grant a dying man's wish, fair Felyca?" I nodded dumbly, trying not to sob. "Give me farewell kiss?" I leaned forward, and let my lips graze his forehead. He closed his eyes and sighed, I kissed his eyelids, my tears hitting his skin and running into his shaggy hair. I kissed his nose, my hair falling forward to surround our faces. Last, I pressed my lips to his, chaste as my first kiss with Alistair.

He didn't return it.

I pulled back slightly, running my fingers around his face, "Roderick?" His chest was still, and I couldn't feel a pulse at his throat. A strangled cry escaped my mouth and I fell forward over his scarred flesh. Another of my house I'd failed to save, killed at the hands of Howe. My emotions took over as I pulled him as much as I could into my lap, mostly his head and shoulders. My sides were burning with the effort, but I was able to hold him proper. I cradled him as much as I could, pressing my lips into his hair and whispering, "I'll never tell, but I love you too." I lowered my face to his once more, letting my lips brush against his one last time before resting my forehead against his and singing him Leliana's song.

_"Hahren na melana sahlin, emma ir abelas, souver'inan isala hamin, vhenan him dor'felas, in uthenera na revas," _

I could hear the sounds of fighting around us, but I couldn't tell if it was just my memory of the knight in my arms or my companions come to rescue me.

_"V__ir sulahn'nehn, vir dirthera, vir samahl la numin, vir lath sa'vunin." _

The shouting was closer now, and I could just make out distinct voices. Mostly guards yelling about intruders and the clash of blades and shield as the main door opened and the combatants tumbled into the cell block.I heard someone shout my name and then the door to the cell crashed open and light surrounded me. I held my breath, waiting for the soldiers to grab me and take me away from him. Instead a familiar voice whispered at me, "Come quickly Warden, though I doubt you were inclined to linger." I raised my head to look at Morrigan, now kneeling next to me. Her face showed concern, a rare thing indeed, and then she looked at the dead body in my arms. "Who was that?"

I swallowed, friends or not it wouldn't do to show weakness to Morrigan. "He was a man I once knew."

She nodded, "A man you loved."

I closed my eyes, the wound still fresh, "Yes. He served as knight at Highever. He was my father's best man, and one of my closest friends. I always admired him... he could swing a sword faster than any I'd ever known and he carried himself like a warrior. It may have started as a childish infatuation, but as the years went on, it blossomed into something so much more." I ran my fingers over his eyes, the slight smile on his lips. At least he'd died knowing that I was alive. "I never knew that he returned it." Morrigan nodded again, thankfully keeping her mouth shut.

Another pair of hands gripped my shoulders and I looked up to see Zevran standing over me, "Come, Warden. Let's get going before more soldiers come." He handed me my bow, and I could just see my armor lying on the ground behind him. I wrapped my fingers around the limb of Spear Thrower and used it as leverage to pull myself upright, letting Morrigan slide Gilmore's body from my lap. I groaned lightly as I stood and he looked me over, "Are you sure you can make it?"

I glanced down at myself and saw that I was covered in fresh bruises and dried blood. "Not all of that is mine," I said, looking at him again.

He nodded, "You'll forgive me if I don't believe you, Felyca." In one swift move he wrapped me up in his surprisingly strong arms, draping a blanket around my shoulders, shielding me from the outside world, and carried me out of the cell, "Morrigan, dear," he called over his shoulder, "You will be sure to prevent our being attacked?" Morrigan sniffed haughtily, but she shook her head 'yes'. I watched in amazement as she shifted her form into a giant spider and raced out ahead of us. "Now, my dear Warden, let's get you out of here."

Alistair was pacing the receiving room at the Arl's estate when Zevran carried me in. By the look on his face, I was sure he'd have some choice words for Anora when he saw her next, but right then all he did was lead Zevran into his rooms. "Here, put me down." I said, pushing against Zevran's shoulders. The elf gave me a look, and I just stared right back at him, "I can make it on my own from here. Please, put me down." He looked over me at Alistair who was discussing a bath with a maid at the doorway.

"And bring some fresh bandages," he was saying as she left, "And Wynne, as well." He closed the door and watched me carefully as Zevran set me on my feet. "You look terrible." he said, I couldn't help but laugh.

I grunted as I wrapped an arm around my ribcage, holding the borrowed blanket in place. "You spend some time in a jail cell and then we'll see how you look!" He half smiled, then opened the door as a troop of servants brought in buckets of water for my bath. Zevran followed them as they left, winking at Alistair and bowing to me. I shook my head as the door closed, then moved over to the stone bath, letting the blanket fall to the floor. Alistair came up behind me and started to remove my minimal clothing, "Alistair, I'm perfectly capable of..."

He turned me around to look at him, his face perfectly serious. "You were just carried from Fort Drakon, my love, covered in blood and you look as though you've been in a fight with an ogre." He brushed back my hair, the ends still sticky from the blood I'd fallen into earlier, "Let me take care of you for once?" He looked so helpless that I swallowed my protests and let his fingers dance over my skin. Once relieved of my soiled clothes, he gingerly lifted me into the bath, letting me get used to the heat of the water gradually. Once I was settled he grabbed up a square of linen and a bar of soap to wash me.

I leaned against the back of the tub, letting him work. His touch was so gentle, his palms working over my skin in ways he'd yet to do in bed. It was so soothing, that I was almost asleep when I heard the door open and someone walk inside. "Alistair, are you sure it's proper for you to be..." it was Wynne's voice. I didn't open my eyes, just listened to them speak. Of course, ti didn't help that Alistair had lifted my right leg just out of the water and was now working the soap against my inner thigh.

"Proper? Since when has anything about our relationship been proper Wynne? I'm a bastard, remember? I never should have been able to say hello to her, let alone be worthy of her company." he lowered my leg, running the cloth over it to be sure it was clean, then commenced working on the other. I couldn't stop the shiver that ran through me as his fingers brushed just beneath my core.

Wynne sighed, "But that all changed when you revealed your father."

"Did it? Did it Wynne? Look at her! She's beautiful, smart and a fearless fighter. Son of a king or not, I'm not sure I even deserve..."

"You deserve her, Alistair. Look at her, yourself, really look at her. Yes, she is all those things that you said, but more than that, she is a woman who loves you for who you are. Believe me, there were more than enough chances for her to have left you, but she didn't. She's here now, Alistair. Don't sell yourself short."

He was working on my torso now, trying to be gentle as he ran his hands over the forming bruises. I hissed as he hit the spot where I was sure I had some broken ribs, and he growled, "I'll kill Anora for letting Cauthrine take her to that place."

Wynne chuckled, "I know you feel that way now, but give yourself some time. Go take a walk in the gardens, breathe some fresh air. Talk to Riordan, I'm sure he's got some tales he could tell to pass your time. I'll see to her cleaning and put her to bed." Alistair must have opened his mouth to protest, because Wynne quickly said, "Not to worry. She'll be here when you get back." I waited for the door to close before I opened my eyes again, and found myself staring into Wynne's eyes. "I knew you weren't asleep the moment I walked in. I'm surprised you fooled him."

I gave her a half grin, and finished washing off my face and upper arms. "It's a trick I learned from my brother. He told me once that you'd hear some surprisingly interesting facts about the people around you if you just pretend to be asleep for a moment or two."

Wynne chuckled, then sat back on the small stool nearby. "Is there anything you want to talk about?"

I slowed in my washing and looked up at her, "What about?" She raised an eyebrow and just watched me. I sighed and went back to work, "Morrigan told you, didn't she?" I saw Wynne nod out of the corner of my eye and sighed again.

"She said she was worried about you, a strange admission for her I might add," I snorted, "and asked if I would talk to you about it. She seemed to not want you to retreat into your shell like you did when your parents died."

I was clean and reached for the towel resting on the outside of the tub. Wynne was quick to stand and hold it for me as I forced my self up and wrapped it around myself. "I think I have some bruised ribs, Wynne. Could you see to those for me?" The older woman gave me a look, "I know, I'm avoiding the question, but please? I promise I'll tell you everything you want to know about him as you work." The woman nodded, then led me to the large bed against the far wall. After I was dressed in a sleeping gown and I was comfortably lain on the bed, I began.

"His name was Roderick Gilmore, and he was my first love..."


	14. The Landsmeet

_ "You want to know more? What more could I possibly tell you? I've told you how I gathered the armies, how I fell in love with Alistair, the King of Ferelden, how I..." _

_ The mage put up his hand and glared at her, "Tell me about this Landsmeet. Tell me why you would put... **Alistair**... on the throne." _

_ Felyca's brow wrinkled, "You really don't like him, do you?" _

_ The mage snarled, "No. Perhaps my mother is already rubbing off on me?" he stepped closer to her, looking deep into her eyes, "Or perhaps there is a reason why I've been watching **you** so closely."_

_ Felyca gulped._

_

* * *

_

I was in Alistair's room at the Arl's estate, the fire burning on the hearth and a sheet wrapped tightly around myself. I'd been in here since my return from Fort Drakon three days ago, Alistair having insisted upon it. Said something about wanting to be near me as much as he could.

_ Stupid bitch, couldn't Anora understand that by announcing she was there would have helped our position against Loghain?_ _Who could have asked for a better ally than his most trusted general. _

_ Apparently Anora._

She'd come to see me as I'd healed, speaking down to me as though I was a fool for not seeing that her disguise had been there for a purpose and failing to understand my reasons for announcing her presence. And that was supposed to make me want to support her in the Landsmeet? It blew my mind that this woman had been loved by any people, what with how she treated her subjects.

_I hate pragmatists._

I took a deep breath and sighed, bringing my knees beneath my chin and turned my head to look at him. He truly was magnificent, wearing only his leather breeches and with his hair mussed. He hadn't shaven since this morning and I could just make out the shadow of a beard on his face. He was half reclined against the small couch, one leg bent so as to rest his arm against it and his head bent back to stare at the ceiling. We'd made love an hour ago but I couldn't bring myself to finish and I knew why.

The Landsmeet.

It was all either of us could think about, and now it was upon us. We'd done everything we could to prepare for it, gathered all the support we could, but even then we might still lose and be forced to live out the remainder of our days in Fort Drakon. I watched him for a moment more, then swallowed hard. It had come down to this, it was time to ask, "Darling," he lifted his head, watching me, "where do you see this going... us?"

He took a slow deep breath, then stared into the fire, letting his hand begin to caress my back. "I don't know. Arl Eamon wants to make me king at the Landsmeet. I never **ever** wanted that, not even in my wildest dreams, but I won't refuse it if it's in the best interests of the nation either." I turned my head back to the fire, but he shifted and put a finger beneath my chin, making me look into those captivating eyes of his, "You know that I love you, right?" I nodded, not knowing where he was taking this, "I love you, but I have no idea what being king will mean for us. I'll have to think about that."

I bit my lip. The possibilities in front of me were growing slimmer and slimmer by the hour. I could let Anora be queen, she'd been a capable ruler, Eamon had even said so. But my gut was telling me not to, not after her outright betrayal of me to her father's men. More than likely she would think just like her father, that she was the only one who could save Ferelden. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but when thinking like that leads to thousands of deaths? Including the death of a king? No, I knew what my decision was, even before Anora had asked me to place her on the throne. Alistair would be king, and I would have to live with the consequences. Even if it meant losing him. I turned away from him, not wanting him to see the tears that were threatening to spill down my cheeks, "Maybe... Maybe there isn't a future for us."

He must have heard the tears in my voice because he scooted closer to me and wrapped his arms around me, resting his chin against my shoulder, "The taint makes it difficult for one Grey Warden to have a child. For two of them? With each other? Next to impossible." My breath hitched and I tried to cover it with a cough, but he wasn't buying. He pulled me close into his chest, hugging me, "But maybe the future doesn't have to involve children, or marriage.. or anything. I care about you so much I... but maybe you're right. Maybe we don't have a future."

I was angry. Ten seconds ago I had been sad about this whole thing and now I was angry. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, "I'm not going to just give up Alistair!" I pushed away from him enough to look into his face, "I refuse to give **you** up easily."

He smiled, "Neither do I. Being with you would be worth it. You're the first woman I've ever spent the night with, and if I can have my way, you'll be the last." I was surprised, that sounded remarkably like a proposal. But before I could speak, he spoke again, "Let's just see where this leads. There still is the Blight to contend with. After that..." he shrugged and I leaned in to kiss him. He smiled as I pulled back, then gave me a serious look. "While I've got you talking, I wanted to mention something."

I raised an eyebrow, "What is it?" He brought a finger up to play with my hair, "I passed Anora on my way here tonight, and I'm assuming that someone told her I plan to steal her throne. She has a nasty glare, by the way." I giggled, and shifted to sit sideways on his lap. He adjusted a bit and I pulled the sheet around so that my bare skin was next to his, "She wants to be queen, I get it. I don't trust her anymore than her father, but I get it."

I laid my head on his shoulder, my right hand playing on his chest, "She wants my support in the Landsmeet."

He looked at me, "Oh? Smart. I wouldn't be surprised if that's why she arranged to be here to begin with."

I giggled, "Sure seems that way, doesn't it? But I know someone who's far more likely to get my vote."

He smirked and looked at me, his eyes boring into my soul, "Really?" He grinned, "Well then. I guess I have **something** in my favor at least." I turned on his lap, wrapping my legs around his waist.

"How can she possibly hate you so much?" He looked over my shoulder, kissing it before he spoke, "I don't think it's me so much as what I represent. I'm here to replace her dead husband aren't I? What would you be feeling?"

It hit me hard, "I suppose I can understand that. But the way she talks about him, it's as though she never really felt anything for him."

He nodded, "So what do you think? When the Landsmeet comes, you might even have a say."

I looked at him, surprised, "Why would they listen to me?"

He shook his head and kissed me softly, "I think they'll listen to a Grey Warden. Especially one who happens to be a Cousland." I tried to move away from him, but his hands caught my waist, "Not so fast. I do believe I have an unfinished job to take care of." his voice dropped, and his eyes darkened.

* * *

I could hear Arl Eamon trying to rally the people to our cause as we entered the palace, "My lords and ladies of the Landsmeet. Teyrn Loghain would have us give up our freedoms, our traditions, out of fear! He placed us on this path, yet we should place our destiny in his hands? Must we sacrifice everything good about our nation, to save it?" The crowd cheered, and some clapped as I made my way through them to the center of the hall.

But as the cheers died down, one man was still clapping, albeit rather unenthusiastically, "A fine performance, Eamon. But no one here is taken in by it." He made wide motions with his hands, "you would attempt to put a puppet on the throne and every soul here knows it. The better question is, 'Who will pull the strings?'" His eyes fell on me as he looked around, and he smiled widely, "Ah! And here we have the puppeteer!" He walked towards me, his stance supposedly threatening. It might have worked too, but I am a Cousland. I wasn't going to be threatened by him. "Tell us Warden! How will the Orlesians take our nation from us? Will they deign to send their troops, or simply issue their commands through this would be prince?" His soldiers came towards me, stopping just short of my group: probably because they were scared of the towering qunari I'd brought with me. "What did they offer you? What is the price of Ferelden honor now?"

I looked at him, stunned that he would think... "The Blight is the threat here! Not Orlais!"

A voice called out from above me, "There are enough refugees in my bannorn now to make _that_ abundantly clear!" Another voice shouted, "The south has fallen Loghain. Will you let darkspawn take the whole country for your fear of Orlais?"

Loghain bristled, "The Blight is indeed real, Wulff. But do we need Grey Wardens to fight it? They claim that they alone can end the Blight, yet they failed spectacularly against the Darkspawn at Ostagar, and they ask to bring with them four legions of chevaliers! And once we open our borders to the chevaliers, can we really expect them to return from whence they came?"

I growled at him, "_We_ failed at Ostagar? You left Cailan and the rest of the Wardens to die! You fled that battlefield like a coward"

An older man on my left snickered, "Oh please go on! The Landsmeet longs to hear a proper tactical analysis of Ostagar from a woman!" I heard my friends shifting behind me, but I ignored them.

Another man near Eamon spoke, "Some of us are wondering, Loghain, as to what really happened at Ostagar." I simply watched Loghain for some semblance of remorse for what he had done. I found none.

"You goaded him into making that charge! He believed the tales, Warden! He thought that your handful of men would turn the tide for him, strategy and consequences be hanged! What would you have me do? Cailan's was not the only life in my hands. Should I have sacrificed an entire army, for his mistake?" He glared at me, "Do not imagine you can shame me with Cailan's death. He was Maric's son. My king. No one regrets his loss more than I do."

I raised my head slightly, looking carefully into his face. No. It wasn't there. There was simply nothing I could even think was regret in his face. "As much as you regret allowing Rendon Howe to torture innocents?"

A man to my left, and slightly behind me, shouted out, "The Warden speaks truly! My son was taken under cover of night. The things done to him... some are even beyond a healers skill."

Loghain braced his legs, "Howe was responsible for himself. He will answer to the Maker for any wrongs committed in this life, as must we all." then a look came over him, a triumphant gleam in his eyes as he said, "But you know that! You were the one who murdered him! Whatever he may have done should have been brought before the seneschal! There is no justice in butchering a man in his home."

I took a slow breath, looking around me at the different lords and ladies waiting for my response. "My lords, ladies, and representatives of Ferelden. I will not hide what I have done. Yes, I killed Rendon Howe." I let the crowd process this for a moment then said fiercely, "But I did nothing more than what he did to my family. Exactly one year ago today Arl Rendon Howe attacked Highever, slaughtering my family, my friends. I barely escaped with my life." I swallowed. There were murmurs flying around now, but I held up my hands for quiet, "Yes, I killed Rendon Howe. But blood rights granted me as a daughter of Ferelden allowed me to do so." I swallowed, turning back to look at Loghain, "You wish to talk about loyalty? Then let us talk about loyalty, your own loyalty to the people you've been trying to kill." I stepped back from him, removing a letter from my pocket, "I have here, a letter." I held it high, letting them all see it, "the contents are a confession by a blood mage, confirmed by the Chantry, on how Loghain removed him from the guardianship of the Templars, then sent him on a suicide mission to poison Arl Eamon."

Loghain snarled, "I assure you Warden, if I were to send someone, it would have been my own soldiers. I would not trust to the discretion of an apostate."

Bann Alfstanna snorted behind me, "Indeed? My brother tells a very different tale, he says you snatched a blood mage from the Chantry's justice. Coincidence?"

An elderly woman opposite her spoke up, apparently the Grand Cleric, "Do not think the Chantry will overlook this, Teyrn Loghain. Interference with a Templar's sacred duty is an offense against the Maker."

"Whatever I have done, I will answer for. Later. At the moment however, I wish to know what this Warden has done with my daughter." My brow wrinkled, "What are you talking about? I rescued her from Howe's estate. The bastard had her locked up!" He snarled at me, "You took my daughter, our queen, by force! Killing her guards in the process! What arts have you employed to keep her? Does she even still live?"

My eyelids dropped dangerously, it was what I did in preparation for a fight, "Unlike you, I am no regicide."

His nostrils widened and he opened his mouth to speak, when Anora's voice rang over the hall, "I believe I can speak for myself." She moved to the head of the hall, keeping her eyes on me as she spoke, "Lords and ladies of Ferelden, hear me. This Warden has slandered and defamed Ferelden's greatest hero in a bid to put an imposter on Maric's throne." I was stunned, what had I gotten myself into.

_The lying little bitch! I knew it! Felyca, I knew she was working with Loghain._

"Oh an she turned on us, what a shock. And she seemed like such a nice despot." Alistair folded his arms and looked at me pointedly, eyebrows raised. Now what were we going to do?

I got my mouth working again and turned back to Anora, "But... but... I was told that he tried to kill you!"

She raised an eyebrow at me, putting her hands on her hips, "Did he? Are you certain of that? I know my father, he would never do less than his utmost for the sake of Ferelden. But I needed to know **your** mind, Warden." she shook her head, "You could have proven yourself an ally of Ferelden. It is unfortunate for all of us, that you did not."

Loghain took over, "Who here can say that Anora is not fit to rule this land? And who can say that this Alistair is? We know nothing of him save that he may have royal blood. For five years, Anora has been queen and proven herself worthy of the Theirin name. She can lead our people through this crisis and I can lead her armies." He snarled at me, "My lords and ladies, our land has been threatened before! It's been invaded, and lost and won times beyond counting. We Fereldans have proven that we will never truly be conquered so long as we are united. We must not let ourselves be divided now. Stand with me, and we shall defeat even the Blight itself." Cheers erupted at his speech.

I glanced back at Alistair, who nodded to me. It was now or never; once the cheers died down a bit, I stepped forward, turning to look at each of them as I spoke. "I may be a Grey Warden, but I have a name other than that. That name is Felyca Cousland." The crowds hushed, some in shock that I would be who I was, and others too stunned to speak in outrage. "My brother was a well respected man in these halls. Many of you knew him, claimed to be his friend, while your wives were entertained by his wife Oriana and my mother in Highever castle. Many of you fought by my fathers side against the Orlesians and freed our country. Loghain is not the only hero in this room, my lords." I glared at Loghain, "One man cannot topple an enemy alone, he needs the support of those who believe in him, who are willing to stand beside him, even when things are at their worst. Who can say that when faced with another situation such as Ostagar, Loghain will not leave you, your sons, your daughters to their deaths while he flees with his life? Of those here who knew my father, my brother, would they allow this injustice to stand?" That was all I could do. My arguments had been made and the evidence laid out. We could only hope that the people of Ferelden would make the right choice.

"South Reach stands with the Grey Warden."

"Waking Seas stands with the Grey Warden."

"Dragons Peak supports the Warden."

"The Western Hills throw their lot in with the Wardens, Maker help us."

"The Cousland helped me in a family matter, personally. I stand with her."

"I stand with the Warden! The Blight is coming, we need the Grey Wardens!"

I looked at Loghain, trying hard to not look smug, "You've lost, Loghain. Step down gracefully."

His chest rose, indignant and he shouted, "Traitors! Which of you stood against the Orlesian emperor when his troops flattened your fields and raped your wives?" He spun to face Eamon, "You fought with us once Eamon! You cared about this land once, before you got too old and fat and contented to even see what you risk. None of you deserve a say in what happens here! None of you have spilled blood for this land the way I have!" He stalked over to me, his fingers curling around the material at my throat and he spat at me, "How dare you judge me."

I heard my companions shift again, but I raised my hand, stopping them. I brought up both my hands and forced myself from his grasp, my eyes never leaving his. "You wish a fight, Loghain? Then you shall have one. But not this way. Let it be an honorable duel, between two champions."

He smiled grimly, "I suppose we both knew it would come to this. 'A man is made by the quality of his enemies.' Maric told me that once, but I wonder if it's a compliment more to you or me?" He shook his head, "Enough! Let the Landsmeet declare the terms of the duel." As the rules were laid out, I looked myself over then back at those who had followed me. Alistair was glaring at Loghain, I knew he wanted a chance at the traitor. Sten just looked back at me, his gaze unwavering, while Wynne watched the crowds. "Will you face me yourself, or have you a champion?" Loghain asked, fiddling with his armor.

I turned back to Alistair, and took a slow breath, "Alistair will be my champion." His eyes connected with mine, and he nodded grimly.

I could hear Loghain behind me, "Then let us test the mettle of our would-be king." I glanced over my shoulder at him as he barked, "Prepare yourself!"

As we stepped away from the center of the room, Alistair gripped my arm, "Thank you."

I looked at him, "Just don't kill him, Alistair. Not yet." I glanced back at Loghain who stood waiting for Alistair, "Show him how badly he's underestimated the Grey Wardens." He was about to move away when I grabbed his gauntlet, my hand shaking slightly, "Alistair... I love you." He looked at me, letting his eyes say so much more than what he could verbalize, then he walked to Loghain.

* * *

The combatants circled each other, neither wishing to expose his back to the other as they did. They went once round the chamber before Loghain drew his sword and charged. Alistair was ready for him, and took a knee, bringing up his shield to block as he drew a smaller sword at his waist, and swung at Loghain's knees, The general jumped to avoid it, and that gave Alistair the chance he needed to stand again and bash the man in the face with his shield. Loghain stumbled backwards, bringing a hand up to check his bleeding nose. He chuckled, then raised his own shield to block the incoming sword. As the metal clanged against his arm, he risked a glance at the sword that Alistair was wielding and his eyes widened, "No! You wouldn't!"

Alistair took a step back, his stance guarded, "I wouldn't do what?"

Loghain shook his head, "You couldn't!" He swung around, bringing his sword across Alistair's shoulders. The younger man took the hit, letting the weapon roll down his back as he tucked and rolled away from the man, "I went back! I searched for that! How can you have found it!"

Alistair risked a glance at Felyca, standing at the edge of the duel ring and smirked, "We had the inside track." Loghain howled at that and took a running leap at Alistair, their bodies crashing together, the plate mail they wore ringing loudly as it smacked against the others, then the stone of the floor.

"That's Maric's sword. It's never been used against me. How dare you!" Loghain shouted, raising his arm. He didn't have time to finish his move as Alistair brought his feet hard against his middle, knocking the air out of him. Loghain stumbled backwards, allowing Alistair time to get to his feet and stalk towards him, weapon raised.

Loghain put up his hands in defeat, "So, there is some of Maric in you after all. Good."

Felyca watched Alistair remove his helm, then grip his sword tightly, "Wait!" she hurried forward, placing herself between the two fighters, "No. Alistair... don't kill him."

Alistair's eyes bulged, "I didn't just hear you say that. Not after everything he's done! Kill him already!"

She looked to her left, where the queen stood and whispered, "No one, not even a backstabbing..." She searched for the appropriate word, then gave up and shook her head, "No one deserves to see their father die." He set his jaw and closed his eyes, knowing she was right.

The crowd parted behind them and Riordan stepped forward, "Wait. There may be another option."

Felyca moved to stand beside Alistair and folded her arms, "What do you mean?"

"The teyrn is a warrior and general of renown. Let him be of use, let him go through the Joining."

Felyca blinked, and gave Riordan a strange look, "You want to put **him** through the Joining? In all of Thedas, WHY!"

Riordan sighed, "There are three of us in all of Ferelden. And there are... compelling reasons to have as many Wardens on hand as possible to deal with the Archdemon."

Anora stepped closer to Felyca, appealing to another daughter, "The Joining itself is often fatal, is it not? If he survives, you gain a general. If not, you have your revenge. Doesn't that satisfy you?"

Alistair huffed, "Absolutely not! Riordan, this man abandoned our brothers and then blamed _us_ for the deed. He hunted us down like animals, he tortured you! How can we just forget that!" Felyca bit her lip, hands on her hips and looked at Loghain. Her eyes glazed slightly as she thought about all the dead at Ostagar, of how he had sent assassins after them, how his own daughter had been used to bait them into a trap, how he had shown no true remorse for what he'd done.

_I hate pragmatists._ "No, Loghain deserves to die for his crimes."

"You can't do this! My father may have been wrong but he is still a hero to the people."

Felyca was shaking her head, "A hero? A hero who used his own legend against the people he saved? What he has done is no better than the Orlesians, as I understand it. He left your husband to his death, Anora. A death that could have been avoided, if he had but remained loyal. How long do you think it would have been before he even turned on you?"

Loghain nodded, resigned to his fate, "Anora. Hush, it's over."

The queen was angry, "Stop treating me like a child! This is serious!"

Loghain shook his head, his eyes falling on Felyca, "Daughters never grow up, Anora. They remain six years old with pigtails and skinned knees, forever."

"Father..." she started. She turned to Felyca, her eyes begging for help. There was none to be found. Felyca looked at Alistair, the sword in his hand ready to taste blood. "Just make it quick Warden. I can face the Maker, knowing Ferelden is in our hands."

She shook her head, "It isn't with me, Loghain. It's with Maric's son, Alistair." The guard came forward, and Alistair followed closely as they took Loghain outside for his much needed execution.

* * *

"So it is decided. Alistair will take his father's throne."

Alistair blanched, "Wait, what? When did that get decided? No one's decided that, have they?"

Anora sneered, "He refuses the throne and everyone here has heard him. I think it's clear then, he abdicates in favor of me."

Eamon shook his head, "I hardly think you're the appropriate person to mediate this, Anora. Warden, will you help us?"

It was my turn to feel sick, "Why me?" I whispered, not really speaking to anyone.

_Because you're the outsider._ I shook my head and looked around, not recognizing the voice. _You are the daughter of Bryce Cousland, one of my trusted soldiers and a good friend. I know you can make the right choice._ I slowly walked through the crowd around me, trying to make room for me to pace, and then I stopped.

_Maric?_

The voice chuckled, _Who else? Look behind you._ As I turned, I caught a glimpse of a shimmering white figure at the throne, and realized that it was indeed Maric. _My son, Alistair, deserves this throne. I never expected Loghain to do what he did. But then again, he never really trusted anything or anyone other than himself. Anora is the same way and if you let her retake this throne, you'll never stop running. She is a capable leader, true enough, but she is her father's daughter._ He sighed and smiled sadly, _She's already betrayed you once, would you really risk that again?_

I smiled, then spoke, "I'm ready to choose."

Eamon announced it, "As the arbiter of this dispute,what is your decision? Who will lead Ferelden?"

I folded my arms and stood next to Anora, watching her carefully. "Alistair shall rule," Anora opened her mouth to protest, but I put up a hand to stop her. My eyes moved to Alistair, my look changing into one of trepidation, "And I shall rule beside him."

_ Smart._ Maric said, his tone almost laughing, _Perhaps if I had acknowledged him as my son, you might have been his betrothed anyway. Your father would be proud of you._ I glanced at the throne and watched as his image disappeared into the dusty sunlight filtering through the windows.

Anora was enraged, "If you think I will swear that oath, Eamon, you know nothing of me."

I looked at Alistair, "You'll have to do something with her."

He nodded, "I suppose that's true." He thought for a moment, then declared, "Put her in the tower for now. If I fall against the Blight, then she can have her throne. If not... then we'll see."

Anora was surprised, "You would give me a chance for the throne after all this?"

Alistair's jaw clenched, "I said if I** fall**, Anora. If I **fall**, the throne falls to you. I won't kill you while there's still a chance that may happen." I had moved to his side then and put a hand on his arm. He glanced at me then turned back to Anora, "Somebody has to take this Blight seriously."

Anora was shocked, "That is... uncharacteristically wise of you." He smirked, "Yes well, don't let it get around. I have a reputation." I nodded, smiling. "Very well then. Guards, take her away."

_Maker but it feels good to hear that._

"Your Highness, would you address the Landsmeet?" Eamon's voice cut into our small moment.

Alistair had been looking at me, quizzically. Eamon cleared his throat, "Oh that would be me. Right, um... I never knew him, but from all I've heard about my father, what defined him was his commitment to protecting this land." He paused, unsure of where to go next.

I stood next to him, my hand at the small of his back, "Just get to the Blight." I whispered.

"I was getting there!" he hissed, grinning at me, "Anyway, the Blight. Yes." He let his feet spread just a bit further, his shoulders straighten and his head raise a little. "I may be Maric's son, but I am also a Grey Warden. I took an oath: I swore I would stand and fight the Darkspawn, no matter the cost to myself. I can't break that oath just to wear the crown. I have to go with my fellow Warden to face the Blight. When the Blight is over, I'll come back and take up my duties, whatever they are, as king. Until then, however, I shall like to have Arl Eamon as my regent." Eamon accepted grandly, and Alistair continued, "And my fellow Grey Warden will, I hope, take Loghain's place as the leader of my armies." He turned to me then, looking every inch the king he was about to become, "Shall we finish this thing together?"

I gathered fistfulls of my skirt in my hands and dipped into a low curtsy, "I can do no less," I raised my eyes to him, registering the surprise on his face, "My king."

He swallowed, then turned back to the assembled nobles, "Everyone, get ready to march! It's going to take all of Ferelden's strength to survive this Blight."

I had come out to the gardens of the arl's estate to be alone, knowing I wouldn't be for long. I never could be alone, not really. The sun was beginning to set and it was casting a soft amber hue across everything. I loved it, it was a shelter from the chaos of the outside world. I was sitting on a bench near one of the fountains when I heard him come near. He never had really learned how to move quietly, but I didn't mind. He sat next to me, having changed into a simple tunic and breeches.

"So... strange story." he started, not looking at me. "Tell me if you've heard this one. This fellow gets made king, and then gets engaged, all on the same night!"

I bit my lip, nervous, "You... you aren't angry at me are you?" We hadn't spoken since the Landsmeet four days ago, simply because weren't given the time. I was busy with Teagan, working out some strategies for facing the horde while Eamon had claimed Alistair's attention with some minor technicalities about being a monarch. One of which, I was sure, was the..._**producing**_... of an heir. I watched him for a long moment, worrying my lower lip with my teeth, waiting for him to speak. I was nobility, I was used to the idea of having to have a child, but Alistair...

He finally turned to me, his face a mask, "I'm actually okay with becoming king. I've had some time to come to terms with it, there might even be some good I can do. I suppose what I'm more curious about is... the engagement." I stopped breathing, "I mean, I like the idea... but are you sure?"

I giggled, relieved, "Is that all? For a moment there I thought you were going to reject me!" He smiled, "Alistair, I love you, more than I ever thought I could love anyone! Of course I want to marry you."

I slid closer to him, and he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, kissing my hair, "Oh good. I guess that saves me the trouble of asking." he wiped his brow and kicked at the ground.

I laughed, "I thought you already had."

"They'll expect an heir you know. With the taint in our blood... it might not be possible." he looked at me carefully, as though he was scared of hurting me.

I smiled widely and leaned in close to his ear, letting my lips just ghost against his skin, "Well, it won't be for a lack of trying."

He chuckled, "That's a very good point." he raised an eyebrow at me, "I suppose it's a good thing we got started when we did, hm?"

I smiled at him and stood slowly, letting my gown shift around my hips as I surveyed the area, "You know. The Arl has left for Redcliffe, we should probably follow." he said. I nodded my agreement, then turned to him, reaching up to undo my hair. I felt it tumble around my shoulders as I leaned forward, "You know... it's a four day trek from here to Redcliffe. This might be our last chance for a bed in a while." His hands cupped my cheeks and he pulled me in for a kiss.

"Sometimes, I _**really**_ like the way you think."


	15. Meanwhile 4

_ "You've been watching me?" She asked, swallowing. The mage smirked and took a step closer. His shoulders rolled back and his robe slid from his body, dust rising around it as it hit the dirt. He was bare from his waist up, the muscles of his stomach and chest so much more defined than Alistair, and it made her face flush. _

_ "Like what you see?" he asked, taking another step towards her. _

_ She set her jaw and shook her head, "No. I wasn't expecting you to do that, is all." He smirked again and stopped moving, resting his hands on his hips and watching her carefully. Her eyes roamed over him, taking in every crease and bulge, every scar healed or not. He was beautiful, in that manly, warrior, I can kill you with a blink sort of way. She shook her head and took several steps away from him. "What do you want from me?" _

_ He chuckled, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow, "I should think it obvious by now." _

_ Her breath caught and her face went pale. "You can't be serious." _

_ He raised an eyebrow at her, "And why is that?"_

_ She gulped, "Because I don't love you?" _

_ He chuckled, "Oh my little Warden. You've such a small view of the world. Can you not see that what I offer you is more powerful than love? More valuable than all the jewels in Ferelden? The power I can give you..."_

_ "I don't want your power. I have my own." _

_ He grimaced, "Your own power. The power you wiled is nothing compared to what I have." he raised a hand and the air around them tingled with electricity. "With my power and your body, we could do so much to this world. We could take over! Forget being queen of a country. You could be empress of the world!" She turned on her heel and started to run. She hadn't gone more than ten yards when he appeared in front of her, mist surrounding him like an ominous cloak and his arms opened to catch her, "Oh, you foolish girl, you forget. I don't need to ask permission."_

_ She back pedaled quickly, throwing herself through the shadowy image of Alistair's tent. Casting about, she saw her bow resting on the command table. "Thank the Maker!" she breathed, moving over to it. Just as she reached out for it, someone walked through her and entered the next room. "Wynne!" she cried, following the mage. Having a weapon was fine and all but she still needed to get out of the Fade. "Wynne, listen to me!" The woman ignored her, just sat next to her body and watched over her and Alistair's sleeping form. "Oh Maker, help me!" Felyca breathed, putting her hands over her face._

_ "Asking for help from an absent god now are we?"_

_ "Morrigan? What are you..." Felyca didn't get a chance to finish, for Urthemiel appeared behind her and grabbed her around her waist, carrying her off. "No! Wait, don't!"_

_

* * *

_

As night fell over the camp, Sten found himself watching things again. Thankfully this time he wasn't in a cage. The army around him was gathering their dead, the elves and dwarves piling them into wagons to be returned to their families while the humans were debating what to do with theirs. Alistair was in and out of the conversations, his mind elsewhere as he spoke things over with Eamon and Teagan. Finally the king threw up his hands and shook his head, "Do whatever you see fit, gentlemen. I've other priorities right now." Then stormed into the tent where Felyca lay, still silent, still unmoving.

Sten settled himself in front of a small fire, near the dwarf and looked him over. He sat, slumped forward, his fingers curled around a mug of something that didn't exactly look drinkable. Oghren looked up at the qunari and smirked, "I bet you're not even worried."

Sten wrinkled his brow, "Worried?"

Oghren belched, "Yeah. Worried, about _her_." he jerked his head in the direction of the tent where Felyca was cloistered with Alistair and Wynne.

_Worried_. He didn't know this word, but if he had to make a guess, Sten felt sure he'd seen the people around him _worried._

They were camping for the night, making their way from Redcliffe, when the fight broke out. Felyca, Eamon's commander, the Dalish and Dwarven commanders along with First Enchanter Irving were cloistered in the command tent when Teagan came running inside, "Warden." he breathed, trying to catch what little breath he had left, "You'd best come and see this..." Felyca gave Alistair a worried glance before heading outside and into a cheering crowd. The men had circled around the beginnings of the main cook fire, where she saw her traveling companions facing off against a small group of foot soldiers. Felyca watched in horror as Sten lunged at one of them, gripping the man beneath his shoulders and pinning him to the ground. The trapped man's companions were about to leap at him when she let out a harsh whistle, making those nearest her cringe in pain.

"ENOUGH!" her voice carried over the camp, and those nearest her fell backwards as she moved closer to the combatants. "Would someone mind telling me what's going on here?" She braced her hands on her hips and glowered at Zevran.

The elf gulped, then pointed at the others, "They started it."

Her eyes flashed as she looked down at Sten, "I hope you have a better explanation than that, Sten of the Beresaad."

The qunari flinched at her tone, and as he stood he released the man he was holding. "I can, kadan. These men were discussing the plans for the coming battle. They said that you were planning on having the army stop at the end of each days march..."

Felyca nodded, "So I was."

Sten snarled, "What point is there in that? The Archdemon is already at the city's gates, it would be best to..."

In a rare show of anger, Felyca drew the Cousland blade from her back, twirling it around in her grip, glaring at Sten. "Are you doubting me, Sten?" He set his jaw, hand back on the hilt of his own blade, ready for the fight.

"Not you, kadan. Only your motives. You say you are to fight the Archdemon, but stopping on this march when this is a suicide mission to begin with will only allow the Darkspawn to entrench themselves further into Denerim."

Felyca drew a steady breath, then did something very, very strange. She stepped close to the small fire, then drove the point of her sword into its heart, sending sparks flying. She looked around the gathered men, elves, dwarves and her own close companions, then released the swords grip, leaving it to stand point down in the fire. There was an eerie silence as she looked around herself, and when she opened her mouth to speak, those closest to the center of the circle leaned forward, anxious to hear what she would say.

"We have gathered all the forces we can. Sten is right, the darkspawn horde is sure to reach the capital before us, and so we must race to Denerim as quickly as we can. The lives of many thousands hang in the balance, I will not forsake them." she paused, then put her hands on her hips, feet spread and watched Sten's face as she spoke next, "But neither will I waste the lives of those very men and women who would save those thousands. We have three more days to reach Denerim and I will not have fighting amongst you." she was turning now, her angry eyes taking each and every one of them. "If you agree with Sten here then you are free to take over." she motioned to the sword in the fire, "If any man here wishes the position then please, come forward! Take up my sword and pierce my heart." Alistair had pushed his way through the crowd, and now he wanted to slap his forehead with her harsh words. This wasn't the way to motivate an army!

Her voice changed to one of her more persuasive ones, and Alistair watched in shock as the men nearest her agreed, "But if not, then please, trust me in what I am doing. We Fereldens have fought off worse in our time, and we will defeat this Blight. But only if we stand united now," she checked herself then continued, "But not under any one banner. We must stand together, as free men. Let the enemy tremble with the thought of what they had suffered at the hands of two Wardens and a small band of followers. Let them know that they are now held against the coast of an angry Amaranthine, with only our blades to guide them to whatever hell the Maker has for them. Yes, they will out number us, no more than ten to one." the group inhaled together, and she let out a soft chuckle, spinning her jeweled knife in her hand, "A paltry number for any proper Ferelden knight, any Dalish warrior, any dwarven berserker. When we march in the morning, it will be known throughout all of Thedas was we have done."

The crowd cheered, and the towering qunari bowed to her, a rare show of respect. As the men dispersed, she stared at the sword in the dying fire, Alistair was about to retrieve it when her hand closed around his forearm, "Leave it, my King." Her voice was hollow, despite having given one of the greatest speeches he'd heard in years, "Leave it as a testament to what we've done. To what we are about to do." She caught his eye and took a slow breath, "For one night, let the men know that we will win this fight. No matter the cost in our own lives."

She was a ways away from the camp, just beyond the flickers of the many fires and on her hands and knees. Sten approached her quietly, not sure whether this was something he should intrude on. As he got closer he could hear her whispering something... it sounded like a prayer!

"Sweet Andraste, I don't know what to do. The men are looking to me for support, for confidence, but I'm not sure I can give it! Maker above, I cannot do it. Leader or no, Grey Warden or no, I cannot walk through this camp with my head held high and with a surefooted stride knowing what I know. That a Grey Warden must die in order that the world may live. It is a sacrifice that cannot be abandoned, or left to someone else. I will not shirk my duty, but help me through this night, my last night on this earth. I know Alistair will take that final blow, but he needs to be king. Maric himself told me! Why would you send him to speak with me unless Alistair was meant to be Ferelden's king!" She stopped talking, and he heard her take a shuddering breath. When she spoke again, he heard the tears in her voice, "Andraste I love him so. I love him more than life itself, and I cannot go through life without him. I will not let him die. I cannot let him die... but I also can't leave him without me. It will break his heart. Morrigan was right, I can't just let him believe that I..." She suddenly looked up at the stars and Sten could just make out the profile of her face in the faint moonlight, "I'll ask him. Forgive me for doing it and may I burn in a fire hotter then your pyre, but Andraste, I'm going to ask him. I'll tell him about the ritual... and leave it to him to decide. That way he'll know all the options before us. What kind of wife would I make if I cannot even mention this to him?" She closed her prayer, then got to her feet. As she turned, Sten slid between two trees, hiding in their shadow, letting her walk past him without knowing his presence.

_What ritual?_ He asked himself, following her from a distance as she returned to camp and slipped into Alistair's tent. He moved closer to the thinner walls and listened closely. If whatever this ritual was pained her this much, he knew Alistair wouldn't like it.

"I see you can't sleep either." He heard her shift in her place, sniffling slightly. "I saw Morrigan outside your tent earlier, and the look she gave me," Alistair gulped, "that was icy even for her." Sten heard him turn around, and finally look at Felyca, "Is something up?"

"You can't sleep? Are you alright?"

Sten could just see him shrug like he always did, "I look around and I can see it in the men's eyes. I'm their king. But now you're changing the subject, I don't want to talk about me; I'm tired, but I'm not stupid. What is this about?"

She took a breath, "Alistair, we... need to talk."

"Oh? I guess whatever Morrigan had to say, it's big. This is what I get for becoming king, everyone always brings you the bad news. So what is it then? Rats running amok? Cheese supplies run low? I can take it." Sten could picture Felyca hesitating, her right foot moving behind her left as her fingers twisted around each other.

She took a breath, "I... I'm not sure I can do this. You know that I love you right?"

"Could you make it sound more ominous? Just spit it out, you're making me nervous!"

Felyca stalled again, then said, "What if... what if I told you there was a way to avoid dying tomorrow?" Sten's gut wrenched. So it was true, what she'd said earlier. A Grey Warden had to die tomorrow.

"You mean with the Archdemon, right? If you mean running away, I can't do that... but you don't mean that do you. _What _is this about?"

Felyca forced a laugh, "Your wildest dreams come true! Sex with Morrigan!"

Alistair let out a belly laugh, "All right, that's pretty funny. Nice way to cut the tension. So, what's really up?"

"Alistair, I am completely serious. It's an ancient ritual that she..."

"You're not joking? Wow... be killed by the Archdemon, or sleep with Morrigan. How does someone make that kind of choice? You're not actually asking me this, are you? What sort of ritual is this anyway?" If he strained real hard, Sten could just make out their shadows on the wall. He watched as Felyca lowered her head and kicked at the dirt, something she only did when she was considering bolting from the scene.

"Magic is magic, does it really matter that much? It still doesn't change what I'm asking you to do."

Alistair turned on her, his voice just quiet enough to not alert the whole camp, "Have you forgotten who you're talking to! Of **course **it changes things! What if this is blood magic! I'll just bet it's blood magic." It was no secret amongst their group that Morrigan had begun to dabble in the forbidden art, but never in the presence of Alistair and **never** without Felyca's express permission. A fact that had never sat well with the man now confronting her.

"Alistair, please. There's more and you need to listen before I lose my nerve and walk out of here." she said, her voice choked with tears, "This will produce a child."

The man stepped back as though he'd been slapped, "WHAT! I... I must be hearing things! Are you telling me to** impregnate **Morrigan in some sort of magical sex rite?"

Felyca took a shaky breath, refusing to cry, "Alistair... I can't... don't ask me to..."

He wasn't listening to her, "Look. Even if I was willing to entertain this idea, and I'm not saying I am, is this really what you want me to do? Are you sure?"

She must have regained some control over herself, because Sten heard her hiss, "Alistair, please! We don't have time to argue about this. Just agree to it so we can move on and forget it."

"Agree? Just like that! NO! I won't do that!" He stepped towards her and Sten prepared to rush inside, "You're the one who told me I needed a spine. So now I have one and I'm not going to do this without a better reason."

Felyca lost all control, Sten could hear her openly sobbing as she begged, "Alistair please. I would do this myself if I could. I can't lose you too! Not after all the things we've gone through, all the ones we've lost. I begging you, please don't make me choose. I can't risk losing you, not if I can save you."

Alistair pulled her to him, crushing her against his body as she continued to shake in her weeping, "We don't know what will happen tomorrow. Riordan could end it or both of us could die before we get close to the thing." He lifted her chin, making her look at him, "Ugh, of all the times to regret being a man. Just because I have the proper... just because I can... do this doesn't make it a good idea. But... if it would possibly spare you, then..." He sighed, "Against my better judgment I'll agree to this thing." She buried her head in his chest once more, wrapping her arms around him. He groaned, "Come on. Where is she? Let's get this over with before I change my mind."

They left the tent, Felyca leading him to her own and both slipped inside, thankfully unnoticed. Sten removed himself from the shadows beside the kings tent, and stretched his legs. He didn't know what to think of what he'd just heard. A few moments later Felyca emerged and tied the flaps down. The set of her shoulders belied her walk as she moved through the soldiers, nodding in recognition of her name as they shouted to her.

She was making her way to the command tent, set up in front of the main bonfire, when Sten intercepted her. "Kadan, might I speak with you?" she looked up at him, and he couldn't help but notice how pale her face was, even in the firelight.

"Sten." she breathed, smiling at him, "Of course you may." she said, motioning to a stump.

He shook his head, "Over there?" he pointed to a smaller fire, where the others had gathered. Wynne, Leliana, Oghren, Shale, Calen. Even Zevran was there, apparently thinking it best to not spend his last night chasing some female soldier for her attentions.

"What's this about?" she asked, and Sten crossed his arms.

Wynne spoke up, "Felyca, dear. I've noticed that in the last few days, you've become drained. Elusive, not even really speaking with Alistair. Is there a reason for that?"

Felyca glanced around the fire, looking at each of them in turn, then sighed, "Yes. I apologize, I shouldn't have been such."

Leliana shrugged, "Don't apologize. You've been under a lot of strain, lately."

Felyca took a breath, trying to think of what to say, then began: "You all know that Alistair and I are the only ones that can kill the Archdemon?" The group nodded, "Well, the reason for that is... that the soul of the Archdemon passes through the taint into the nearest tainted creature." Everyone hissed, well, everyone but Oghren.

The drunken dwarf just barked, "Why? What's so bad about that."

Felyca let Wynne explain, her throat had constricted too much to speak. "Oghren, two souls cannot live within the same being. At least, not for very long. Eventually both beings are killed in the struggle to control the body."

The dwarf went white, "So... you're saying that..."

Felyca nodded, "Yes, Oghren. There is a very strong chance that either Alistair or myself, or even both of us, will die tomorrow." Leliana gasped and Wynne went white. Zevran hung his head and Oghren took a great swig of his ale. Shale simply stood over them, watching. Always watching.

They sat that way for a long minute, until Calen came forward and pressed his nose against Felyca's knee. She looked down at him, the one companion she'd had through everything. He'd been with her through that fateful night at Highever, protected her from darkspawn attack throughout their travels, had waited for her while she navigated the Deep Roads and had guarded her tent many nights while she and Alistair had spent their few stolen moments together. Now she was telling him that she might not return from this trip. Everyone stared at her in surprise as she let out a choked sob and fell to her knees, wrapping her arms around the animals neck, burying her face in his freshly washed fur. Calen must have understood, because he lifted his head and let out a dread howl that shook them all to their bones. Even the noise from the camp behind them had stopped. Once that howl was over, Calen let out another and another. It sounded like he was mourning the dead already, and Felyca clung to him all the tighter for it. For her, he wasn't just mourning the dead. He was mourning what she had asked her beloved to do for them this night.

They sat that way for a moment longer, Calen with his muzzle over her shoulder, and she with her face against him. Then Felyca stood, wiped her face and smiled sadly, "Now, my friends, if you'll excuse me. I have a battle to prepare for." She walked away from them, the aura of command tight around her body like a cloak, and Sten couldn't help but feel proud. Proud in having known her and proud that he was considered one of her friends.

"Before us stands the might of the Darkspawn horde. Gaze upon them now, but fear them not! This woman beside me is a native of Ferelden, risen to the ranks of the Grey Wardens. She is proof that glory is within reach of us all. She has survived, despite the odds and without her, none of us would be here. Today, we save Denerim. Today, we avenge the death of my brother, King Cailan. But most of all today we show the Grey Wardens that we remember and honor their sacrifice. For Ferelden! For the Grey Wardens!"

Alistair's shout still rang in her ears as they raced down the hill ahead of her portion of the army. Felyca pulled up short as she spotted a Hurlock holding a sword to a mans throat. She readied her bow and fired, hitting the Hurlock in the chest and throwing him backwards. The man on the ground rolled to his side and knelt over the beast, plunging his dagger into the Hurlocks chest.

They entered the main gates, with Alistair and Calen tight on her sides, each taking down darkspawn after darkspawn until enough of the army was through, and pushing the creatures deeper into the tighter corners where their higher numbers accounted for nothing and they were cut down like vermin. The main group had made it to the center of the arena and were circling themselves as Riordan approached her. "You've managed to fight your way to the gates. We're doing better than I'd hoped!" He sounded surprised, and it made her smile.

"Good to know I still have a few tricks up my sleeve." she quipped.

The fighting around them stilled enough that Felyca lowered her bow. Sten snorted behind her, "That will change quickly."

Oghren agreed, "Bloody nug runners! We're outnumbered three to one!"

Riordan nodded, "The army will not last long, so we'll need to move quickly to reach the Archdemon. I would suggest taking Alistair and no more than two others with you into the city proper. Anyone you don't bring can remain here to prevent more darkspawn from entering Denerim on our tails." she nodded, it was sound tactically.

"And how exactly are we going to fight a flying dragon?"

"We're going to need to reach a high point in the city. I'm thinking the top of Fort Drakon might work."

It was Alistair's turn to be surprised, "The top of... You want to draw the dragons attention?"

"We have little choice, though I warn you that as soon as we engage the beast it will call all its generals to help it."

Felyca shook her head, "And how many generals are there?"

"I can sense two in Denerim itself, and you may wish to seek them out before going to Fort Drakon."

Leliana piped up, "I am sure that if we did slay those generals, it would stop the darkspawn in the city from doing a lot of harm." Felyca just kept nodding, biting her lip as she thought it all over. She had already sent the Dalish off to the alienage, it was on a short rise and with it's high wall, they would be able to defend it easily. They had the marketplace secure for now, and she could leave the mages here to help whomever she left behind. That left the dwarves. She nodded to herself, it could work... It had to.

Finally she turned to the group and pointed to Alistair, "Stay here with Leliana, Zevran, Shale and the mages. I'm taking Sten, Oghren, Wynne and the dwarves with me." He opened his mouth to protest, then thought better of it and snapped it shut, nodding his agreement. She turned to Riordan and motioned to the group of Redcliffe men standing near them, "Take Eamon's men with you, have them secure the Fort."

Riordan gripped her shoulder, nodded, "Very well. Nothing you have done has prepared you for what you are about to face here. May the Maker watch over you." And then he was gone, allowing the group one last moment for their farewells.

* * *

"So this is it then. All that we've been through has led up to this. Whatever happens now, to either of us, know that I am proud, infinitely proud to have called you friend."

Felyca gripped Wynne's arm and smiled sadly, "And hopefully you reach the Fade before me, eh?" it was a bad joke, but the elderly woman smiled nonetheless.

"This is it Warden. 'When from the blood of battle the Stone has fed, let the heroes prevail and the blighters lie dead.' As one of the blighters I sodding salute you. Let's show them our hearts, and then show them theirs."

She reached out and grabbed his arm, "It has been my deepest honor to fight beside you, Oghren. Let no one ever tell you that you have none."

The dwarf clenched his jaw, then broke into a triumphant grin, "Honor? Nobody's looked at me and seen honor in a long time Warden." she smiled at him, "We'll talk about honor when we all survive this."

The dwarf laughed harshly, "Not one for facing the facts are you? Anyway, today I will be the warrior you taught me to be." As he walked towards Wynne, Felyca couldn't help but notice that Oghren walked a little straighter, a little more proud of himself than ever before.

"So the Archdemon is next, is it? I admit, I am feeling a little... apprehensive? I would almost say that I feel concern for something other than myself, even maybe for a soft squishy companion. But that would be silly wouldn't it?"

Felyca grinned, shaking her head. She looked up at the stone golem and tilted her head to the side. "It is scandalous to even consider the notion."

The golem nodded, "I know. Please do not tell anyone, I doubt I could blush, but it would be so awkward." she was about to walk away when she turned back and added, "And do try and not be swallowed whole? If the beast were to fly about afterward and poop it out, irony would dictate that it would fall on me. I couldn't handle it."

Felyca chuckled, and nodded, "I promise, Shale. The dragons belly is the last place I wish to be."

"Are you ready?" Sten asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. It was an uncharacteristic move, and made her pause. "We have reached the battlefield at last."

She nodded, then looked up at him, "Thank you, for all your help Sten. I could not have made it here without you."

He shook his head, "I have done nothing. You have carried us this far, do not doubt that. So, shall we give the Archdemon the death he wishes?" he squeezed her shoulder, almost crushing the leather armor she wore, then moved to wait with Wynne and Oghren.

"Heading off to slay dragons without me, hmm?" Felyca opened her mouth but Zevran put a finger to her lips, "Fine, fine. Say hello to the Archdemon for me. He never writes anymore, it's rather distressing. And do watch your back? No getting eaten, unless you think it's really important, of course."

He was about to move away from her when she grabbed him and gave him a quick kiss on his lips. "You've earned that, Zev my friend."

The elf was surprised to say the least, "Really? Only the one?"

She smiled, "Let me think it over, and maybe you can say that you've kissed the Queen of Ferelden, hmm?"

"After all that, I will not be going with you?"

Felyca pulled Morrigan aside, and whispered, "Your condition is a little too delicate for me to risk your life."

The witch snorted derisively, "I would still go with you, but as you wish." She took a breath, "Let us part ways now. You go your way to your destiny and I go to mine." The two women stared at each other for an agonizing moment.

"You are a true friend, Morrigan. I will miss your friendship... as well as your clear head." Felyca said, offering her hand to shake. Morrigan gave her a crude look, then accepted the handshake, pumping only once before letting go.

"You have something else?"

Felyca bit her lip, "About last night..."

Morrigan sighed, then nodded, "I see. Let me talk and you shall listen. I shall be brief. What was done had to be done." she paused, letting it soak in, "I regret it not. Let us not complicate matters further."

"I understand that."

It was Morrigan's turn to bite her lip, "Once this is done, I will be gone. You understand that, yes?"

Felyca smirked, "Just don't make me come after you."

The sorceress shook her head, "Not that I would recommend it, but your destiny shall forever be your own."

As she was about to leave, Felyca called out to her, "Use your magic well, my friend. And only as you need it."

Morrigan looked at her incredulous, then smiled, "Haven't I always?" Felyca bowed to her, then turned to Leliana.

"So this... this is it? This is the end? We've come so far. It's strange to think all our fates will be decided in a matter of hours. We stand on the precipice, before the greatest battle of our age... I wonder if the heroes of old ever felt like this. I wish I could go with you."

The Warden raised her head and looked her in the eye, "I need you here, Leliana. You're as good with your bow as I, and I couldn't handle you being squished."

The bard snorted and shook her head, "I would gladly follow you to the gates of hell itself. But if you think it best that I stay, then I shall. You are a dear, dear friend and I... I shall be very cross with you if you don't return."

Alistair's hand sneaked out and hauled her aside of the group, pinning her against a crumpling city wall, just out of sight. "So I'm not going with you? Any particular reason?"

She bit her lip and tried to push him back, but he held her fast. "I'm not going to risk you getting killed. You're the king now."

He cocked an eyebrow at her and grabbed her chin, "And you think that I want you running in there, and fighting that thing? Without me? Ritual or no, that's a dragon!" He looked into her eyes, and the fight went out of him, "But there's no point in arguing with you. We don't have the time and you can be a stubborn, stubborn woman."

She smiled, "That I am. You'd just be a distraction, and I can't have that."

"At least you're honest about it." he released her chin, "There's a compliment in there somewhere, I think. I guess this is the last chance we'll have... before this is finished. Be careful in there."

She giggled, "I'll be back. I don't plan on dying just yet."

His fingers caressed her cheek, smearing the spots of blood on her skin, "That's my girl. Just remember, that ritual doesn't prevent you from being squished." he kissed her then, gentle and reassuring, his hands sneaking around her torso and holding her against him. She returned it eagerly, both of them wanting to forget what lay ahead of them. "Now go," he said, his voice husky with emotion, "kill it. And come back safely, or I shall be very cross with you."

"I love you, Alistair." she whispered, letting her fingers brush his cheek.

He smiled at her, closing his eyes as he held her tight to him, "And I you. Always."


	16. Return From the Fade

Wynne couldn't understand why she felt this way. Something inside her was screaming that something was very, very wrong with Felyca, but whenever she would examine her, both magically and without, she couldn't find anything wrong. Except for whatever it was that was holding Felyca and her unborn child hostage. But where could she be? In the Fade? She sighed and sat down next to the woman's bed, watching her carefully in the harsh glow of the lamps. She risked a glance at Alistair, her heart wrenching as she thought about what she **did** know. Felyca was pregnant, almost two months along as far as Wynne could tell, and she could probably make a fair guess as to whom the father was. "I just don't know..." she began, but was hastily interrupted by that voice screaming at her. She'd tried everything else, why not? And so she listened, closing her eyes and searching her soul, she listened to the voice for the first time since it had spoken three days ago.

_"Wynne! Wynne, help me! I can't... I can't run much longer. He's just toying with me!"_

Her brow wrinkled, "Felyca?"

Alistair stirred next to her, having fallen asleep as she sat with her. "What? What was that?" he mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Wynne shook her head at him, then knelt on the bed next to Felyca's body. "Felyca... can you hear me?"

Nothing happened. Wynne slumped a little, and tried again, "Felyca. Can. You. Hear. Me!" Again, nothing. She closed her eyes again, listening for something from that voice, when it came to her.

_"Wynne! Get me out of here! Use your spirit and force my soul back into my body. Do something! I can't do it on my own. The damn bastard has me trapped. I don't know how, but maybe you can think of something." _The voice paused, then screamed out, _"Wynne! That potion! The one Morrigan gave me! Make me drink it. Maybe that'll..." _The voice screamed again, _"No! Don't.."_ There was silence for a moment, and then Wynne heard, _"Morrigan, on your left ... no, don't! Wait!"_

A breeze shifted through the tent, over the three of them. Alistair's eyes were wide, "Wynne. What did you just do?" The woman shook her head, "I don't know." she moved from the bed and went to Felyca's pack. "What are you looking for?" he asked, coming to her side.

"That vial that Morrigan gave her, for her birthday."

Alistair grunted, "You're thinking it might help her?"

Wynne looked at him, then at the body on the bed. "She seems to think it might."

His face went white, "What? Wynne, what are you saying? You can talk with her?" The mage nodded, and unceremoniously dumped the contents of Felyca's side bag onto the small table. There were two sachets, an assortment of arrowheads and a small carving knife, obviously what she used in creating her shattering arrows. They each grabbed up a sachet to open and Alistair's eyes went wide as he saw what was in his. "She kept this?" Wynne glanced at him, watching as he removed a beautiful rose, its petals still a brilliant shade of red.

Wynne smiled, "Yes, she kept it. After you gave it to her she asked me to put a small enchantment on it, to never let it die."

He raised his eyebrows, "And you did it? Wynne, aren't you usually the one who says not to use magic for stuff like that?"

The old woman shrugged, and grabbed up the vial they were looking for, "It was only a small bit of magic, and besides..." she looked at him now, perfectly serious, "I'm a hopeless romantic."

Alistair kept his gaze on the rose, his fingers just brushing against the petals, "But magic like this..."

Wynne nodded absently, turning her attention back to the sachet in her hands, removing small vials of assorted potions, "It needs to be tied to a life." She found the vial she was searching for and held it up for him to see, "I told her that. Two days later we got into that little scuffle with Zevran, when you were badly injured." His face paled, "She asked me about it again, when we were working on your wounds, then asked I if could use some of your blood for the spell."

Alistair put his hand over the scar on his chest, just above his heart. The fact that it had never faded like the rest had bothered him, but now... "Wynne, you know that's blood magic."

The old woman's head snapped around to glare at him, "No, Alistair. Just because blood was involved doesn't make it blood magic. Call me what you will, but when she asked me to do that spell, I wanted to. She wanted something to remember you by, and it was her own wish that your blood be used." He looked back at the rose, "As long as you live, that rose will look like that." she moved a bit, "Now come, let's get her back on her feet."

Wynne walked over to Felyca's body and uncorked the vial. A pungent smell permeated the tent and it made the both of them gag. "Ugh!" Alistair coughed, "I should have known that anything made by Morrigan would smell that bad." Wynne nodded, not really caring anymore. She lifted Felyca's head and set the vial to her lips.

"Come on, open up." she whispered.

The girl didn't react and Alistair was quick to her side, "Tell me what to do." he said, removing his gauntlets.

Wynne handed him the vial, "I'm going to have to open her mouth and force it down her throat. I don't know how long it will take to have an effect, but I think as long as she drinks all of it..." Alistair was nodding, and held the vial, ready to pour it into Felyca's mouth. Wynne opened the girls jaw and motioned for Alistair to do his part. The vial was half gone when Felyca started to thrash beneath them. He stepped back hastily, dropping the remaining potion in the process. Her eyes opened, and she sat up fast, throwing Wynne off the bed as she did so. Alistair swallowed, and went for his sword. He knew he shouldn't have trusted Morrigan. Felyca's eyes were white, just as they had been at her Joining. Her head moved from side to side, taking in her surroundings, then she let out a great hiss and threw herself from beneath the blanket, kneeling at the edge of the bed, ready to pounce on something. Alistair looked at the ground on his left, where he'd dropped the vial and had to steady himself as a figure appeared out of the smoking remains. It was a man, easily six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a bare chest. His torso was covered in scars and bruises in all states of healing; but the one that caught both his and Wynne's attention was the great gash that went from between his eyes into his hairline. He wore only a loose pair of breeches that were ragged at the hem and revealed the bottom half of his calves. His well muscled calves.

"Urthemiel." Wynne breathed, and it made Alistair look at her.

"What?"

Wynne pointed at the man standing before them and repeated, "That... that is Urthemiel. The Archdemon."

Felyca growled, "Not the Archdemon. This is the Old God and he's a mage! Watch out!" Felyca dived at Urthemiel, knocking both of them through the small division. Their sudden appearance startled Zevran and Leliana, who had come in the night before after a pointless two days of searching.

Urthemiel threw Felyca off him, and was about to lunge at her when she grabbed up a dagger and swung it at him, cutting across his stomach, opening a gash that began to bleed black blood. He stumbled backwards and she dropped the weapon, rolling her shoulder down and pushing him out of the tent into the morning light.. Sten and Oghren were surprised to see Felyca and a half dressed man come tumbling out of Alistair's tent with the four others hot on their heels. The man was on his back and Felyca's hands were curled around like claws, trying to scratch out the mans eyes; the mans hands were gripping her wrists, trying to keep her from getting next to him. He rolled back onto his shoulders and hurled her backwards into the remains of a garden wall. The stone crumpled around her and as she struggled to her feet, they could see the impact crater.

* * *

He reined in his borrowed horse and stared at the city below him. Smoke was still rising from the dead fires, and he could see where the darkspawn had cut down the city's walls to get inside. There were soldiers positioned outside the gates, setting up tents and smaller camps, centered around a cluster of larger tents. He could see the trappings of the kings command tent, as well as the muted colors of at least four healers tents. He nudged his horse forward and let the animal trot towards the city.

Fergus Cousland was a large man, standing six feet two inches tall with broad shoulders and a strong sword arm. The shield on his back bore the scars of many battles, the Highever laurel nearly faded from the multiple washings he'd put it through just to keep it presentable. The armor he wore had been given him to replace the broken bits and pieces he had been wearing when he'd arrived at Redcliffe. The arlessa had insisted on it, and had almost offered to replace his shield, but Fergus had been adamant. "NO!" he'd practically shouted, gripping the shield tight in both hands, "No. Forgive me, my lady, I do not wish to be rude, but this is the last I have from Highever." He'd heard about his family's massacre, about how his fathers supposed friend had betrayed them all.

The arlessa had gotten really confused then, and had said, "But isn't your sister the Grey Warden?"

Fergus' heart had stopped and he'd grabbed the arlessa by the arms, "What did you say?" The woman had half smiled and told him the whole story. How his sister had come to Redcliffe, saved it from a demonic invasion and then saved her son from himself. And then how she had gathered an army and was even now marching to save the city of Denerim from the Archdemon.

"They left only a few days ago," her boy, Connor had told him, "I'll lend you my father's fastest horse. Take him and follow them, perhaps you might catch them." And so he had left, racing towards Denerim on the back of a borrowed horse, certain that the animal would come to hate the sound of his voice, the feel of his heels in its flanks.

He was passing the second circle of tents when he heard barking. His horse shied and he dismounted, tossing the reins to a young boy. He followed the sound of the bark, now becoming more frantic. It sounded as though the poor animals master was being tortured or... He made his way into the main circle and there was the poor animal, watching helplessly as his mistress was thrown into a garden wall. He tried to go to the dog, but found he couldn't move. _Paralysis trap._

_

* * *

_

"Foolish." her combatant hissed, bringing up his hands and beginning to mutter under his breath. "You should have let me take you." throwing his hands forward and letting loose a fireball. Felyca looked up at him, her face unreadable. Her eyes were still that blank white, and it unnerved Alistair. Why couldn't he move! Why wasn't he taking a chance at attacking the man as he focused on the love of his life. He couldn't look down at himself and then it clicked. The people surrounding the two fighters were under a paralysis spell.

Urthemiel was twice Felyca's size and at least twice her weight. Not to mention he was a mage and she was unarmed. He could only watch in horror as the fireball was growing in size as it approached Felyca, but she didn't move. Instead, just before impact, a great wolf appeared in front of Felyca, taking the hit in her flank and tumbling end over end into the dirt. "I could have given you everything! Just think of the power! The strength that you could have had!"

Felyca snarled, and cracked her neck, her eyes still that frightful white. "I have no need of your power. I have my own!" The wolf growled a warning, but Felyca ignored it. Her hands came forward and lightening flew from her fingertips, striking Urthemiel in the chest and forcing him backwards. The group watched in amazement as Felyca stood again, the air around her crackling with energy.

"I thought she wasn't a mage!" Alistair whispered to Wynne, the spell holding them weakening enough to let him speak.

The woman shook her head, "She isn't. I'm afraid that potion we made her drink gave her temporary powers."

He stared at Felyca in shock, "If the Templars see this they'll..."

Wynne snorted, "It's a little late for that." She grunted and forced her hand up to point at a small cluster of the Chantry's soldiers.

Alistair groaned, "If they believe she has magic they'll never let her marry me."

Wynne took a slow breath, thinking it over. "Perhaps... but maybe if we could show them that this was a one time thing. That she has no magical leanings..."

Felyca let another bolt of lightening crash into Urthemiel, and she stalked towards him, her fingers snapping. "You see?" Her voice was changing, and her body was beginning to shake. The wolf let out a howl and charged, knocking Felyca onto her face. Felyca rolled over and looked at the wolf in surprise, "What... Why are..." her body began to convulse, her chest heaving with labored breathing.

"Maker, what's happening to her?" Alistair asked, fighting against the remains of the spell.

Wynne smiled, "The spell is wearing off. She's losing her borrowed power. Watch."

Felyca sat up, the convulsions gone and blinked, her eyes back to their normal grey. She looked at the wolf, around herself, then back to Urthemiel. He eyes went wide as she realized something, "I'm not in the Fade anymore, am I?" The wolf beside her shook her head, then let out a short bark and Felyca smiled. She looked at Urthemiel, grinning, "You should have gone where you were told, mage." Confusion crossed his features, and then he looked up. The wolf charged at him and let her jaws clench around his throat.

"Ahgh!" his last cry sounded around the camp, the wolf shaking her head as she tore out his jugular. The group couldn't stop watching in a grotesque fascination as the mans body fell limp from blood loss, then surrounded the wolf's body in a green mist. As the mist dissipated, the wolf turned back to Felyca, who was fighting to catch her breath. The wolf padded over to her, then rubbed her head beneath Felyca's chin.

Felyca smiled grimly, then nodded, "Thank you, for everything." The wolf howled in victory, then spun around, racing through the crowds that were beginning to surround Felyca and out the gates.

She didn't stop until she was well away from the city. Then she crawled into a small depression in the hills, and curled into a ball. _It was the least I could do,_ Morrigan thought as she fell asleep. _Live well, my friend. Live gloriously._

Felyca continued to kneel on the ground, a hand at her throat while the other flexed its fingers, as though she was trying to figure out what had happened. Knight-Commander Greagior raised his hands, dispelling the remains of the paralysis spell. Fergus rushed forward, sliding on his knees the last few feet to be near his sister. "Felyca." he whispered, and she looked up at him.

Her eyes went wide as she recognized him, "Fergus! Fergus, I..." Her sentence was cut off as she let out a great wail, her hands clutching at her abdomen. "Fergus... get me inside, quickly." He swept her up into his arms and followed Calen as he yelped and jumped around his feet. The mabari led him into the great command tent, and he saw the great bed set up beyond a partition. "Fergus... Fergus I..."

He shook his head at her, "Shush, now little sister. I'm going to get a healer, you just try and relax."

He turned around and found himself face to face with a elderly woman. "Out, brother or not, I need to be alone for the moment." the woman hissed, pushing him back into the main room of the tent. Fergus was confused, who was this?

A red haired woman appeared at his side, gripping his arm and gasping in horror, "Oh no." He glanced at it, then did a double take. There was blood dripping from a puddle in the crease of his chainmail. His eyes raised to the cloth partition, the flimsy thing all that stood between him and what was left of his family. And he listened as he lost what she could have had. The red haired woman at his side turned to the blond man standing behind them, "Alistair... I don't know what to say." Fergus turned around to look at him as well, taking in the man's considerable height and presence.

"What's wrong with her?" the man hissed, his eyes glued to the red-head. The woman bowed her head as Felyca let out another shout. The man lunged forward, trying to get past them, but Fergus caught his arm.

"You'd best leave her be." he whispered, giving the man a stern look.

Alistair shook himself free from Fergus' grip and stared at him, "Why. She's to be my wife! What could you possibly think won't let me see her?" Fergus looked away, knowing what it was, but not knowing what to say.

The woman standing next to them sniffed and looked at Alistair, gripping his arm, "She's having a miscarriage, Alistair."

When he didn't immediately react, and elf in the corner spoke up, "She means that Felyca's losing a baby."

The man's head whipped around and his shoulders slumped, "You mean... she was..."

Fergus set his jaw, and clamped the man on the shoulder, "Yes. My sister in there was pregnant, and from the sound of things, with your child, yes?" Alistair raised his eyes to met Fergus' gaze, his breathing hesitant.

"Yes... she and I have..."

Fergus nodded slowly, "Come with me, Alistair. I think we need to have a little talk."

Felyca woke up slowly, her body aching and her head pounding. Taking a moment to try and remember where she was, she realized that she wasn't alone. She could feel it, a tingling in her blood as she sensed another tainted creature nearby. But this wasn't a darkspawn, no, this feeling was warm and familiar... "Alistair?" she whispered, turning her head side to side to try and find him. His face fell into view, his fingers brushing a stray hair from her face.

"I'm here, love, I'm here."

She smirked, "You know, the last time we met like this we had a Blight to defeat. What are you going to throw at me this time?"

Her brave warrior bit his lower lip and she instantly sobered, "You know, don't you." He didn't answer, just fixed her with a glare and waited. Feylca drew a shuddering breath and closed her eyes, "You know." She heard him growl angrily and felt his weight lift from the bed. She could hear him pacing around the small inner chamber of his tent and she waited for him to speak. After a long few moments, she finally heard his voice.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Her face didn't change, "I wasn't sure until we were already heading back to Redcliffe, and by then you wouldn't have let me go anywhere."

He snorted, "And what about..." he didn't have to say it. She knew what he was thinking. Morrigan and her baby. She'd allowed a known apostate to take into herself the essence of Urthemiel.

"Morrigan knew." she whispered, finally opening her eyes to watch his reaction.

His face went pale, then green, then red. "You... you told _her_? You deemed her worthy of telling about _our_ child, **my** child, but not me. The child's father?"

Felyca swallowed, "I didn't tell her right away. When she approached me about the... when she told me about the..." she smirked, "The _loophole_, I asked her if our child would be appropriate. She told me it wouldn't."

Alistair gave a derisive cough, "Of course she would say that. She wanted Urthemiel's power for herself!"

Felyca shook her head, letting out a painful hiss as she forced herself into a sitting position, "Alistair. The child had to be young, very, very young. Only hours along in its development in order for the soul to take root. She could have magically enchanted our babe to be able to handle it, but the chances of it actually working in the same way as that ritual..."

He whirled on his heel to glare at her, "Wouldn't work the same way? Do you have any idea what she did that night?" Felyca swallowed, not sure if she wanted to hear what she knew he was about say to her.

* * *

_Morrigan watched Felyca leave the tent, and waited until the woman was well on her way away from them before turning to stare at the man before her. She knew what she had to do and she knew why she had to do it, but that didn't mean she had to like it. Alistair stood with his arms crossed, the look in his eyes apparently supposed to be threatening. She opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to it, "Let me make one thing very clear, Morrigan. I'm here on Felyca's request, nothing more. It is my duty to stop this Blight, and if I can also save her life in the process, by doing this... then so be it. After this is done, I want nothing to do with you. I don't want this... child of mine appearing some day to threaten whatever life Felyca and I can have. I want you to swear to me that you'll keep your word."_

_ The witch sneered, "You think you're the only one who has come to care for our leader?" _

_ Alistair just glared at her, "Swear it. Or I walk out of here right now, and take my chances with the Archdemon." _

_ Morrigan rolled her eyes, "What Felyca sees in you I will never understand. Yes, I so swear. Now, can we get this over with? I want to be here no more than you, sire." the last rolled off her tongue with such disdain that Alistair almost lost is nerve right there. Shaking his head, he turned around and began to remove his thick leather doublet. "Wait." Morrigan hissed, and he glanced at her. _

_ "What?"_

_ She looked around, then took a slow breath. Alistair couldn't believe what he was seeing. Morrigan... was nervous? The woman moved towards him, "Leave it on. I... I need to prepare for a moment. Then we can begin." Alistair raised an eyebrow to her. Despite what he might feel about his woman, Felyca trusted her. Holding onto that knowledge, he walked over to the bed and sat on its edge, waiting. She shook her head, "Lay down and close your eyes." _

_ He smirked, "You wanting me to fall asleep?" The witch snarled at him and he obeyed, throwing an arm over his eyes. _

_ She waved her hands in his direction, "Sleep, sleep and dream." Not to long after his chest rose and fell evenly, and she grinned to herself. Men were so easy to manipulate. Too easy. Morrigan set about the tent, lighting the circle of candles she'd arranged earlier for this. She just wanted to do this for her friend. Give Felyca a chance at life. If this was what it took to be worthy of the woman's friendship, then so be it. She raised a small vial to the flames of one of the candles, and began to chant slowly. She could feel the magic begin to pulse in the air around her as the flames began to dance._

_ "__Yn y cyfnod hwn ac yn y lle hwn, yr wyf yn galw ar y magics o amser a gofod. Gadewch i mi fod, ar gyfer y awr nesaf, y gwrthrych yr awydd hwn dyn."* _

_ The air around her crackled, and four of the five candles went out, dropping the tent into a half darkness that was only augmented by the many fires outside. She heard Alistair inhale swiftly, making her look up at him. When all he did was roll over into a more comfortable position, she returned to her preparations. Carefully, she removed the stopper from the vial and downed the contents. It took only a moment, then the potion began to take effect. Her stomach roiled in her belly, and she let out a harsh gasp. The man on the bed across from her shifted again, and she let out a gentle wail._

_ Alistair sat up slowly, his mind still cloudy form the effects of the sleep spell. He looked around his lovers tent, and saw a figure kneeling in front of a candle on the floor. "Felyca?" he whispered, moving over to her. The woman looked up at him, hands clutching her midsection. "Felyca, my love are you alright?" she shook her head, and his hands were instantly on her. "Tell me, what happened. Zevran didn't finally decided to turn on you, did he?" she shook her head again, and he sighed. "I can't play the big protector if you don't tell me what happened." The woman smiled sadly, and wrapped her arms around his neck, murmuring something into his skin. He brought her head back, looking into those addicting grey eyes of hers, "What was that?" _

_ The woman blinked rapidly, as though she was fighting tears, her purple brown hair falling in strings around her face in the heat of the tent. "Please, Alistair. Just let me forget... help me forget that this might be our last night." she ran her fingers over his cheeks, her eyes searching for something. "Don't let me lose you... I don't want to lose you."_

_ His heart broke, and he took her face in his hands, "Oh my love... You won't lose me. I'll always be with you." he kissed her gently, pulling back enough to rest his forehead against hers, "I love you." his voice was almost gone, and the woman shifted in his arms, putting her mouth to his ear, "Show me, Alistair. Show me how much you love me."_

_

* * *

_

"She did what was necessary." Felyca hissed, her hands clenched into fists around the blankets.

Alistair continued to stare at her, "I didn't remember who she was or what I was doing until it was too late. And now you're telling me that I could have not gone through that hell?"

Felyca swallowed, her own emotions too raw to really fight with him. "Alistair, please... don't do this right now."

He was too angry to listen. "Not right now, she says, late, she says, well, my lady, when would you view as a good time to discuss this?"

She looked away from him, tears openly rolling down her cheeks, "Urthemiel was a mage, Alistair. You know as well as I do that mages can't hold titles or lands. What would you have done if your son showed signs of magic? If the child I gave you couldn't hold the throne we fought so hard to give you?" Her voice was quiet, but it packed a punch. He felt as though she'd kicked him in the gut.

"Felyca, that's not fair. You didn't know that he..."

She whipped her head around to stare at him in horror, "I didn't know, he says, discuss it now, he says. You saw him out there, Alistair. Mage or not, he was power hungry. Suppose that he didn't keep his magic if I'd given birth to him. What then? He wanted me to rule beside him as empress of the world! He would have killed me if not for Morrigan. No, Alistair. I stand by my decision, no matter how much it hurts. Morrigan is the only one with enough power to control him, and the only one who can keep him well away from us... from you."

The fight left him, he knew she was right. She was always right, but Maker damn him if he didn't like this blasted idea. "I'm still not entirely sure that this is a good thing." He walked over to her and sat next to her on the bed.

"I know, love. I know. But whatever come from this, we will face together." He smiled into her hair, pulling her close to his chest. "And what about us?"

He drew a slow breath, "I've discussed it with both Eamon and Wynne. They seem hopeful, especially Wynne. She's examined the... she... she did some tests and found that the child had yet to be infected by the taint." Felyca drew a sharp breath, and he put a finger over her lips, "That's not to say that it wasn't and whatever magic Urthemiel employed on you took it with him, but the body itself was untainted. Wynne said to take it as a good sign, that having an heir might not be as impossible as we thought."

Felyca giggled, some of her old spirit returning. "Just highly improbable."

He smiled mischievously at her, "Ah, but aren't you the one who said it won't be for lack of trying?"

* * *

* Translation: In this time and in this place, I call upon the magics of time and space. Let me be for this next hour, the object of this man's desire.


	17. Epilogue

Eamon had insisted that Alistair have the coronation as soon as possible, so that the people had a leader they could look to as they cleaned up the city. Felyca, weak from the miscarriage, several broken ribs and her arms wrapped from electric shock, had been sentenced to bed rest for the next two weeks by Wynne; but had been snuck out with her brother to watch from a far balcony. She'd smiled widely as Alistair had knelt and been blessed by the Grand Cleric to protect Ferelden and its people. "He's a wonderful man, sister." Fergus whispered as he carried her back up to her room. "You know, when I heard that my sister was leading Ferelden into battle, but also Grey Warden, I was surprised, to put it lightly. Father would be proud of you, I know I am.

Felyca smiled, "I know, Fergus. Believe me, I know. He told me so." Fergus grinned, backing into the door for her room. The maid in there gasped as they entered, then hurried out as Fergus set her in a chair near the fire. "Fergus, I... I wanted to tell you how sorry I am, about Oriana and Oren."

His face fell, "Yes, I... I'm trying not to think about them."

She leaned forward in the chair and set her hand on his arm, "Don't. It'll eat you alive, like it almost did to me." He raised his face to hers, "You think you're the only one who loved them as much as you?" She kept her gaze even and held the stare until he shook his head and looked into the fire.

"I know... I know." she could see the pain etched on his face as they sat still.

"I know it hurts, Fergus, but would Oriana want you like this?" He flinched, and closed his eyes. Her great warrior brother who never showed his gentler side was hurting. "Fergus," she whispered. "Fergus... can I tell you something?" He looked up at her and nodded. She smiled sadly, "It was while we were gathering the army," she began, her gaze drifting off to a space above his head, "We were making our way through Haven..."

Alistair was nervous, his armor glinting in the sunlight streaming through the windows of her bedchamber. The city had cleaned up quickly with the people eager to forget the darkspawn and move on with their lives. Today Alistair was to hold court for the first time since his coronation, Eamon had insisted on it, saying that he needed to set some things straight with the lesser nobles. "Are you sure you won't come down?" he asked her, turning to look at her more carefully.

Felyca sat in the bay window of the room, watching the crowds gather below them and shook her head, "No. This is a day you need to see to yourself, Alistair. My being there would just overshadow that." She stood and walked over to him, her nightshirt clinging to her curves, "Besides, I'll be waiting for you when you come back."

He smirked and pulled her closer to him, kissing her cheek softly, "I'd feel much better if you were there." he whispered, making her giggle.

She slapped his breastplate playfully, "I already said no, Alistair. Besides, I don't want to deal with Wynne when she sees me out of bed."

He cocked an eyebrow at her, then a look came to his eyes, "That's right! You're not supposed to be out of bed yet." She gasped as he bent and lifted her, then carried her over to the oversized bed dominating the room.

"Alistair!" she laughed, trying halfheartedly to get away from him.

He pouted, and brushed back a stray piece of hair from her face, "Be here... right here," he said, forcing her to lay back against the numerous pillows, "when I get back. Promise me."

She leaned up and kissed him, letting her fingers curl in his hair, "I promise." she breathed, "Now, go. Be a king." He smiled at her, his eyes taking in her every feature.

"I love you." he whispered, kissing her one last time.

She returned the kiss, then smacked him with a pillow, "I love you too, now git!"

The door was barely closed behind him when Leliana emerged from the shadows of the wardrobe and winked at her, "I almost thought I should leave."

Felyca rolled her eyes and reached for the gown that the bard held. "I wasn't about to let that happen." she glanced at Leliana, a teasing smile on her lips, "At least, not yet!" Both girls laughed heartily as Leliana helped Felyca tighten the corset like bodice of the gown. It flared a bit at her hips and swept the floor. It was a soft white velvet with sleeves that cut off at her elbows, letting the rest of the material fall in a triangle to about her knees. It was tied off with a red satin sash that accentuated her womanly figure. It was a bit more extravagant than she was used to wearing, but for an occasion such as this, Felyca figured she'd make the exception.

Leliana was brushing through her hair when Zevran came hurrying inside, his own attire a far cry from the leather armor he'd worn for most of their trek. "Aren't you ready? I have a perfect spot, hidden from the rest of court, but we'll have an excellent view."

Leliana frowned, "I'm almost done." she was about to bring Felyca's hair back into a bun, but the woman just stood and shook out her hair, letting it fall down her back in a soft cascade of purple brown.

"He's about to start anyway. Come on." They rushed through the upper halls of the palace to the place Zevran had found for them.

Alistair was seated on his father's throne, watching the groups of nobles as they settled into their places around the chamber. Once it was fairly quiet, Alistair raised his head and shouted down the hall, "Fergus Cousland, step forward." her heart leapt to her throat and she had to fight from smiling too much. She knew what he was doing, what he had promised her. Fergus stepped forward, kneeling before the man he would soon call brother, "Your Majesty." Alistair's smile broadened, and he stood from his seat, walking to Fergus and motioning for him to rise.

"We were very pleased to discover you alive. Your sister had thought you dead at Ostagar."

Fergus stood, crossing his hands behind his back, "I only wish I had recovered from my wounds sooner that I might assist in the retaking of Denerim."

"Be that as it may, you are now here. Fergus, the Highever lands are restored to you and your family, along with it's title." Alistair gripped Fergus' shoulder, "Rise, Teyrn Cousland. And join the party!" The shouts in the room were deafening, the claps and stomps brought age-old dust rain down from the rafters. Felyca clapped her hands, ecstatic.

"I knew it! I knew he'd do it!"

Leliana laughed beside her and hugged her shoulders, "Congratulations, my lady!" Felyca returned the hug and smiled. She didn't think she'd felt this happy in her whole life.

Alistair's eyes roamed over the entire hall, even up into her balcony. He snickered to Fergus, and nodded at the woman. "I see your sister has made it down for this."

Fergus chuckled, "Felyca's good at doing stuff like that. She'll tell you one thing then sneak around your back and give you exactly what you wanted to begin with." He shook his head ad he watched Felyca wrap her arms around the elf next to her, "You know, I remember sneaking into her room once and stealing a look at her diary."

Alistair gave him a look, "What did you find?"

Fergus' eyes flashed, "What I opened to was a dream she'd had, about a great golden prince coming down from his throne and whisking her off her feet, asking for her hand in marriage."

Alistair returned Fergus' mischievous look and nodded, "A golden prince, eh?"

Fergus nodded, "A golden prince... who asked her to marry him before the entire court."

Alistair's looked back at Felyca, "Before the entire court."

Their eyes met, and his smile widened wickedly. "Uh-oh." she whispered to Leliana. "We've been spotted." Leliana slipped back from the rail, pulling Zevran with her. Felyca looked around for a way to escape but other than the stairs leading to the main floor, she found none. She looked back at Alistair, who was now walking grandly down the main hall, right for her. _Stairs. Take the stairs._ She hissed to herself, and turned on her heel, almost running down the stairs next to the main door. She reached the floor at the same time that Alistair reached her, and she felt his fingers curl around her arm.

"My Lady Cousland, please. Wait a moment." he said, his voice echoing around the hall. A soft hush fell over the crowd as she turned her head up to look at him. They stood there for a moment, lost in each others gaze, his hands holding hers and a teasing smile playing on his lips.

"My lord?" she asked, gently pulling on her hands, trying to escape the stares of the court.

His smile widened and he tilted his head to her, "My lady, might I beg a question?"

She bit her lip, not really knowing where this was going. "Of course, Your Highness."

Alistair slowly got to his knee, never letting her hands from his grip and looked up into her face, "Lady Felyca Cousland, will you do me a great honor and become my wife?" There were gasps from the females in the group and Felyca felt her cheeks flush.

"My... Your Majesty, I... don't know what to say." she stammered, her breath coming in short gasps.

Alistair grinned at her, his eyes twinkling as he stood and leaned in closer to her, "Then just say yes." Her eyes roved past him, her brother standing behind him and knew where he'd gotten this idea.

"Your Highness, I..." she smiled demurely, something he'd almost never seen her do, "I would be a fool to refuse." He pulled her into a kiss then, in front of the entire cheering court.

* * *

"My friends, we are gathered to celebrate those responsible for our victory. Of those who stood against the darkspawn siege of Denerim, there is one in particular who deserves commendation. The one who led the final charge against the Archdemon remains with us still, an inspiration to all she saved that day. Ladies and gentlemen, may I formally present my betrothed, who will soon be your queen."

Alistair stepped from the center of the stage set up for this event, and Felyca tried not to stumble as she walked forward to stand next to him. She was in that green gown that had been given her so long ago, although there were some slight alterations. The belt had been replaced by an ivory sash that wrapped around her waist twice. The sheer halter of the bodice had been restitched to include smaller gems that twinkled in the mid-day sun. Simple, yet elegant, and absolutely Ferelden. The crowd cheered as she raised her hand to them, smiling. "My friend, it is hard to imagine how you could have aided Ferelden more. I think it only appropriate that I return the favor." Alistair was saying, making her look at him, surprised. "As a reward, and as an engagement present, I offer you the boon of your choice." She was stunned, "I hadn't expected this, Your Highness."

She took a breath, thinking it over, "While I don't find myself in need of anything more..."

He smiled at her, "I suppose marrying me is all any girl could want. I'm kidding of course."

She shook her head, "I think that the sacrifice of the Wardens should never be forgotten again."

He nodded, "That is a very good point. I think we can begin with a monument here in Denerim, dedicated to the Grey Wardens who have fallen – Duncan, Riordan, all of them. And it is high time some scholars were collected to learn more about the darkspawn. We will face them again, with the dwarves as well as here." He moved away from her, addressing all those who could hear, "Let it also be known that the Arling of Amaranthine, once the land of Arl Howe, is now granted to the Grey Wardens. There they can rebuild, and follow the example of those who went before them."

The crowds let out a great cheer and the pair laughed heartily as a band struck up in a far corner of the square and people began to pair off, some dancing while others mingled through multiple merchant stands. Teagan claimed her attention and led her through the crowds, introducing her to different nobles in attendance. She danced a round or two with Fergus and then had to excuse herself for a glass of wine. Eamon had grabbed Alistair's arm and was talking to him about the different ambassadors coming to the city in the coming weeks, trying to understand where they would be housed. It was another hour before he found her, standing near a secluded table.

"So, we made it." She turned around and found herself staring into Alistair's honey eyes, "I'm impressed aren't you?" He put a hand on her cheek, "I was so scared I might lose you, but here you are. Not bad right?"

She smiled, taking a small step closer to him, "No. Not bad at all."

He closed his eyes, lowering his forehead to hers, "I bet this had something to do with that night... with Morrigan. I'm not that dumb."

She blinked, then shook her head, "I told you it would."

"The rest of the Grey Wardens haven't arrived yet from Orlais, but they've already sent... questions. What do I tell them?"

She shrugged, "Honestly? I don't care what you tell them, let them wonder about it." he gave her a look, "Then again, the truth's always a good option."

He snorted, "That a maleficar saved you then ran off to have my demon baby? That has a certain ring to it, right?" They laughed softly and he kissed her gently, "No. I think I'll just keep that to myself. I can shrug and look stupid, it's a talent." She giggled then put a hand to her nose, hoping her swallow of wine wouldn't come back out. "Speaking of Morrigan, do you know where she went? I'm told she vanished, right after the battle. No goodbyes or anything."

Her eyes widened, "You wanted to say goodbye? I thought you hated her!" as he shrugged, she remembered her friends last words to her.

_"After this I shall be gone, and I ask that you not follow me."_

"She didn't want to be followed."

He rolled his eyes, "Very dramatic. I don't imagine she'd be easy to find even if she did want to be." Felyca giggled again, then set her empty glass back on the table. He pulled her into a hug, "At any rate, I can't wait to be alone with you. These formal affairs drive me insane!"

She shook her head at him, "You'd better get used to them. You're the king now."

He rolled his eyes, grinned and turned her around, half dancing as they moved through the crowds, "Tell me about it," they passed by Teagan and Oghren laughing merrily over a barrel of what smelled like pickles. "But the way I see it, it will be tolerable, as long as I have you."

It was her turn to roll her eyes as he led her to the shade of a maple tree just out of sight of the square, "We'll be married soon enough, Alistair. Then you have me all to yourself."

He laughed, "HA! I get to marry the woman I love! Who could want better?" He was leaning her back against the tree, his face inches from hers as he came in for another kiss. A cough came from his left, making them both jump.

"Your Majesty, the emissary from the Dalish clans is here to speak with you."

Alistair nodded, then grinned at her as he spoke, "Yes, Eamon. I'll be right there."

She laughed and rubbed her hands across his breastplate, "Meet you upstairs later?" she hissed, tapping her fingers across the metal.

His voice dropped an octave, making her arms tingle with goosebumps. "Oh I'll be waiting, don't you worry." He kissed her nose, then pulled back, "I'll let you get to your adoring public. They want to see the Hero of Ferelden, and who am I to keep them waiting?"


End file.
